


Moirai

by LadyAniko



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, HEA, Memory Loss, Oma and Shu, Pining, Post-Canon, Post-War, Red String of Fate, Reincarnation, Soulmates, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:41:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27528598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAniko/pseuds/LadyAniko
Summary: Long-term side effects of a lightning strike, Katara read, one night by flickering candlelight beside Zuko’s bed, her eyes itching with exhaustion: persistent neurological weaknesses, particularly nerve and muscle damage; severe headaches, trouble concentrating, and memory loss.Or: Katara navigates a post-war world trying to rebuild itself and particularly grapples with changes regarding Zuko.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar)
Comments: 149
Kudos: 327





	1. Not This Time, Not Again

**Author's Note:**

> My heart wanted an angsty, dramatic little post-war one shot...and then word count got away from me so I now present this mess to you as a multichapter.
> 
> This fic has a few different inspirations. One of them, and the most important, is [ this wonderful Zutara fan art](https://jasonntodd.tumblr.com/post/633242310009831424/%F0%9D%92%BB-%F0%9D%92%B6-%F0%9D%93%81-%F0%9D%93%81-%F0%9D%92%BE-%F0%9D%93%83-%F0%9D%91%94). Once we get to the scenes in question it will be fairly obvious that they were inspired by the piece. It is also thanks to this artwork that the red string concept tied in (pun totally intended) to the fic as well. So a HUGE thank you to the lovely artist [ (@jasonntodd on Tumblr)](https://jasonntodd.tumblr.com/) for such a beautiful piece, for giving me inspiration, and for letting me link to their work here!
> 
> Everyone please go stare at their art and then tell them how awesome they are :)

Ey, volví a soñar  
Que fuera de este mundo  
Pude respirar  
Aprendiendo a siempre a sentirme bien

 _—_ Fuera de este mundo, Rubytates.

Zuko tried to give his life for hers, and Katara remembered it so vividly. Like it was yesterday.

She doubted she would ever be able to forget it.

For a moment, blue was the only color Katara could see.

The air crackled and Katara’s hair stood on end, preparing for the white-hot voltage shot from Azula’s fingers and now ripping unimpeded toward her. And every muscle went numb. She stood frozen.

Despite what Katara knew was impending death, she felt strangely calm.

And then she saw Zuko’s figure, silhouetted against the blue fire, and he was sprinting.

She’d never seen him move so fast.

He yelled something, and it took Katara a fraction of a second longer than it should have to register that it had been the word _no_ ; and it took her another fraction of a second, right about when she saw his feet leave the ground in a flying leap, that she became fully aware of exactly what he planned on doing. Anxious words bubbled up in her throat: _are you crazy, what are you doing, how dare you do this—_

But nothing came out.

All she could do was watch as the bolt hit him. Zuko curled around it, making absolutely certain that not even a little bit of that electricity would evade him and reach her. It did not collide with him so much as he just accepted it. Straight to his chest. To his heart.

Katara watched almost as if in slow motion, the image flickering across her eyes, as Zuko fell to the ground, twitching and shuddering.

And something deep and strange and unknown inside of her, something she didn’t understand and something that frightened her, broke.

Everything was curiously quiet, but her ears resumed functionality when Azula cackled.

As if awakening from a deep slumber, Katara jolted and started to run. She had to get to Zuko and heal him immediately; forgetting, almost, that Azula was even there; forgetting everything except that most primal mode of survival, the purest physiological impulses that allowed her to put one foot in front of the other.

Something chanted in her. _Zuko. Zuko. Get to Zuko._

It pounded to the rhythm of her blood rushing in her ears, the clapping of her footsteps on the stone ground, the panicked ringing in her head. _Not this time, not again, not again._

But Azula shot a fireball at her, and Katara just barely dodged it.

She hadn’t been afforded the luxury of distraction after that.

* * *

When Azula was finally in chains, Katara tore over to Zuko and collapsed to her knees at his side.

She still felt unusually detached as she automatically began to heal the scorching wound on his abdomen. His body was smoking, actually smoking, and there were angry red lines darting out around his injury and sprawling up his chest, creeping downward toward his hips—a spiderweb map of the electric currents that had fried their way through his nerves. Zuko was having spasms, his eyes were hazy but open— _how_ he was still conscious right now, Katara had no idea—and groans of pain were slipping out of his mouth.

“It’s okay,” Katara found herself saying, hoping she sounded soothing as she tried to unblock the dead tissue that had accumulated where he’d been struck. She felt his heart; weak, but still fluttering. If that lightning had been a mere few inches higher and to the left, he would have died. He still could die. The complications from this would be severe.

She kept healing him, ignoring Azula’s deranged screams, the ominous red of the sky, the burning fire all around them. She acted mostly on instinct and her knowledge of Aang’s similar injury, begging inwardly that it would be enough.

Because it had to be. If it wasn’t, whatever had broken in her earlier would shatter to something irreparable. Katara still wasn’t entirely sure what it was, or how she knew this, but she was absolutely certain of it.

Left. Right. Dissolve the congealed, scorched tissue. Circle. Other way. Soothe the nerves. Open the chi. Strengthen his heart.

His shaking and his shuddering, pained exhales were lessening, so it must have been working.

It had to work.

Katara’s wide eyes finally moved from the injury when she was satisfied that he wasn’t, at least, going to die on the spot, even if intensive care was still necessary. Zuko looked on the verge of falling asleep, but he still used his precious energy to give her a small smile. His eyes, though clouded and only half aware, were warm. “Thank you, Katara,” he whispered.

His voice was so weak. Even though he had to be in excruciating pain, his face showed only mild discomfort.

Katara’s throat closed, and she became suddenly aware that tears were streaming down her cheeks, and probably had been since she’d arrived at his side. Swallowing hard, voice wavering uncontrollably, she said hoarsely, “I can’t _believe_ —you shouldn’t have, Zuko—you _know_ what could have happened—”

“Yeah,” he said, cutting her off, his voice a tiny hint stronger even if his eyes were becoming more distant. “I did know.”

Katara let out a noise similar to a choked sob. And then she leaned down, gently cradled his jaw, and kissed him.

His lips were hot and tasted faintly of smoke. Katara only pressed hers to them once, twice, three times—soft and careful, her nose brushing against his—before she pulled away, gazing down into his amber eyes. She saw something in them flicker before they rolled back in his head and he slumped in her arms, unconscious.

Suppressing more sobs, knowing she needed to get Zuko help, Katara struggled to stand and peered over at Azula. The princess had gone quiet and was no longer struggling against her chains. Azula was just sitting very still, staring mutely at the ground. Azula could wait. Katara had to get Zuko somewhere comfortable. His life was still too precarious, still hanging by a thin thread.

 _It will be enough,_ Katara told herself, as she tried to think what to do. _It has to be._


	2. Spirit Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't have time to edit and update tomorrow, so here's the chapter a day early. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

The next day Zuko was still not awake.

Azula was locked away, but the solution wasn’t permanent.

Iroh had been notified of his nephew’s condition and was coming as quickly as he could from Ba Sing Se.

And Katara barely left Zuko’s room, having become his primary healer. She took her meals by his bedside; she dozed in the chair there, too, because his unstable condition frightened her. Sometimes, when she felt his heart as she healed him, she noticed that it didn’t beat quite right. It felt stuttered. It skipped beats. She knew that she could not afford to be too far away if his heart stopped.

It was Aang that finally convinced her to take a break half a day later. He urged her just to take a brief walk and clear her head, promising he could fly quickly to her if something went wrong.

Grudgingly, she had agreed.

And now Katara sat by the turtle-duck pond in the palace courtyard as evening faded to night.

There were fireflies softly illuminating the bank, hovering in luminescent circles near where Katara’s feet rested in the warm water. Even after all the time she’d spent in the Fire Nation, Katara still wasn’t used to the fact that the water was almost always warm here. But there was a breeze that made the air just cool enough for it to be comfortable.

It felt good after so long cooped up in the room. Aang had been right.

“Katara?” It was Sokka’s voice, and she heard his footsteps trail tentatively across the ground behind her.

She smiled tiredly when he settled in beside her. “Hey.”

“You okay? You should get something to eat.”

“I’m not really hungry.” She pulled her knees to her chest, watching the turtle-ducks glide silently across the pond.

Sokka’s hand came to her shoulder and squeezed. She looked over and was surprised to see how solemn he looked. “He’s going to be okay. And if you don’t take breaks, your healing will suffer. It helps him too if you rest.”

Katara sighed. “I know that. I’m just…really tired. And scared.”

Sokka squeezed her shoulder again. “I know.”

“What are we going to do now?”

“Don’t know." Katara saw Sokka's blue eyes trail after the turtle-ducks, a thoughtful look creeping onto his face. “Dad’s going to be chief. Suki wants to go back to Kyoshi Island eventually, after things settle down here.” Sokka glanced at her. “I want to go with Dad, and I know that’s probably my place—to help rebuild the Southern Water Tribe. But I’m not sure if that’s what I want to do yet.”

“I know what you mean,” said Katara. “Everything is so confusing right now. But I want to be here for now. I’m needed here.”

“Toph is staying too,” Sokka told her.

“Really?” Toph hadn’t mentioned that to Katara the times that she’d stopped in to check on Zuko. Not that Zuko had been awake for any of his visitors. He had yet to show any signs of waking. And his heart was still so weak…

“Yeah. Something about ‘Sparky probably needing her lie detection skills when he’s dealing with politicians.’”

Katara smiled. She felt suddenly much lighter. Everyone was talking about Zuko with the confidence that he’d survive, that it was inevitable that he would wake. Katara herself wasn’t so sure, but it made her feel better that the others were. She wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d woken up and his heartbeat was stronger; just remembering how feeble it was already had her itching to go back to the room. Sokka seemed to understand this, because he stood and held out a hand, helping pull her to her feet.

“Thanks, Sokka,” Katara said.

They walked across the courtyard and down the corridors, the eyes of curious guards following them as they went.

“I still can’t believe Zuko did what he did,” Katara said finally, very quietly.

“I can,” said Sokka, shrugging. “He’s a good guy. He risked his life a lot after he joined us.”

“We’ve all risked our lives,” Katara pointed out. “We’ve all protected each other in battle. This was different. He—”

She stopped. Sokka stayed silent, waiting for her to continue.

Katara forced away the burning sensation that had crept up in her eyes.

“What happened, exactly?” The curiosity in Sokka’s voice was evident. Katara suspected he had wanted to ask long before this, but had held back in an attempt to be sensitive. Sensitivity wasn’t always Sokka’s strong point, so Katara appreciated the gesture.

They turned another corner. Katara was never going to get used to how gigantic this place was.

She hooked her arm through Sokka’s, leaning on him a little as they walked. “He jumped in front of it, Sokka. The lightning. And it wasn’t like—” She paused again, irritated that her throat felt tight all over again. She just couldn’t get the image out of her head. The way Zuko had jumped. The blinding blue light and how it had collided with his chest. Seeing him twitching and convulsing on the ground. Those minutes she’d assumed he would die. It had all been such a blur, a nightmarish blur.

Katara shuddered briefly at the memory before ripping herself back to the present. “It wasn’t like he was trying to deflect it. I was there when he was teaching the technique to Aang. Zuko said that if your stance isn’t exactly right, the lightning hits your heart.” Again, she thought of Zuko’s faltering heartbeat, and fear made her cold.

_No_ , she reminded herself fiercely, as she had for the entire past day and a half, over and over and over. _He’ll be fine._

“He jumped,” she continued, hoping that her voice wasn’t as shaky as she felt. “It hit him while he was in the air. He knew what it would do. He wasn’t trying to redirect. He thought it would kill him. He was…sacrificing. He meant to die. Like…Mom did.”

It was terrifying.

She didn’t know why, but something about that fact—that Zuko and her mother had both willingly accepted death for her, and so far had been the only ones to do it—it terrified her.

“Well then,” said Sokka, nudging her playfully, trying to keep things lighthearted, “A really nice thank you card might be in order.”

Katara choked on a laugh, swiping a few errant tears from her eyes. They were now paused right at the door.

“I’d better get back in there,” she said.

“Only if you promise me that you’ll sleep soon. Properly.”

“Yeah, alright. I promise.”

Sokka wrapped her in a hug before squeezing her shoulder one last time and departing down the corridor.

* * *

Another day passed as a blur.

People came and went.

Katara’s helplessness grew. She couldn’t do anything.

She couldn’t do anything more for Zuko, and it was killing her.

* * *

“He needs spirit water,” said Katara the next day, turning away from Sokka so he couldn’t see the tears gathering in her eyes.

Sokka blinked. “What? But how, Katara?”

“I don’t know yet! But you wanted me to tell you my medical opinion, and there it is!”

Her brother’s gaze flicked over her haggard appearance, a courtesy of her lack of sleep, and then he sighed. “Okay. I’ll tell the others. Maybe together we can think of something.” He looked behind Katara now, to where Zuko lay on the bed shirtless, his middle heavily bandaged and his dark hair hanging limply in his face. And Sokka frowned, concern flashing in his eyes.

“Thanks,” said Katara, glancing pointedly at the door.

She was glad that Sokka left without trying to discuss further issues. Anytime he came he brought news of what was going on in the world, reminders of all the decisions that needed to be made, and Katara couldn’t think of those things right now.

The others came in and visited her, and went on walks with her or brought her food, but Zuko was too fragile to leave for long, and Katara was desperate to find a real answer about how long she could expect him to be unconscious. Yesterday, Fire Nation researchers had returned from the palace archive, their faces grim. They had informed her that based on (admittedly very few) past cases, there was no telling when or even if someone will wake after getting struck with lightning.

They did, however, have some other information for her, though it was very scarce and it wasn’t very cheerful.

_Long-term side effects of a lightning strike_ , Katara read, one night by flickering candlelight beside Zuko’s bed, her eyes itching with exhaustion: _persistent neurological weaknesses, particularly nerve and muscle damage; severe headaches, trouble concentrating, and memory loss._

If it hadn’t been for her friends and the arrival of Iroh—whose calming energy, stories, and Pai Sho game had become indispensable to Katara in the long hours they spent together in Zuko’s room, each helping distract the other from the man on the bed that still wouldn’t wake—Katara may have already lost it by now. She was not used to feeling this unsuccessful when she worked on healing someone. The only other time it had happened had been with Aang. She despised that she did not have the means to take care of Zuko the way that he needed. It was a horrible, helpless feeling. Zuko had no Avatar state and no spirit water to help his recovery, and Katara was forced to make do. The problem was that she was starting to get the feeling that she couldn’t _do_ much more at this point.

Still, she focused almost single-mindedly on her healing, and when she was taking a break from doing that and she didn’t have other company her mind drifted to the topic of what was going to happen when Zuko woke up.

During the night, as she nodded off in the bedside chair alone, listening to Zuko’s ragged breathing, Katara thought about how she’d kissed him, and what she’d say to him when the topic inevitably came up.

_I don’t know why_ , she would hear herself say. _I was just_ _so_ _emotional right then._ _I don’t know_ _what happened_ _._

And that was somehow both the truth and a blatant lie.

Katara wasn’t ready to think too deeply about it yet.

She just wanted it to feel like the war was finally over, but she was beginning to understand that in some ways, it may never be.

* * *

It was Uncle Iroh that found a solution to the spirit water problem.

Due to his membership in the White Lotus, he was able to get into contact with an ancient tribe of sages on Bhanti Island, in the south of the Fire Nation, who allegedly had underground pools of spirit water. It was a mere two days after Iroh had written them that a sage arrived, a severe looking elderly woman with sharp cheekbones and fiery red hair.

She arrived at Zuko’s room in the late afternoon, her mouth set in a grim line, her eyes wandering over Iroh and Katara before nodding curtly in greeting. Behind her, two guards trailed in, each carrying a bucket of water so blue and so clear that it could only be—

“Spirit water!” gasped Katara, springing to her feet.

“Correct,” said the woman sharply, gesturing impatiently to the guards that they should bring the buckets forward.

“How were you able to get here with that?” Katara couldn’t help but ask as she rolled up her sleeves, her stomach fluttering with hope.

“On a dragon,” retorted the woman, and Katara exchanged a brief, confused glance with Iroh, uncertain if she was kidding.

Iroh’s mouth just twitched when he met Katara’s eye, and then he was addressing the Fire Sage. “Should we administer it now?”

“Well yes, of course!” was the irritable response, accompanied by an eye roll. “After he wakes up, which I’m thinking should be quickly after he receives the spirit water, we need to bring him down to the lower levels of the palace. I was told there are bathhouses down there, and I’ll be setting up a private room for him.” She stepped closer, examining the scorched burn. Her mouth pressed into an even thinner line. “The future Fire Lord is going to require regular dips in spirit water.”

“How much did you bring, exactly?” Katara asked, eyes widening.

“Enough. Again,” said the Fire Sage, her tone clipped, “Dragon.”

And with that she turned on her heel and left, snapping her fingers authoritatively for the guards to follow her, which they did in all haste.

Katara wasted no time bending the spirit water up, circling it gently around her palm, and applying it to the wound on Zuko’s abdomen. Iroh had come to stand beside her, watching anxiously, and there was only the sound of Katara’s healing interspersed with her and Iroh’s harsh, stilted breathing as they watched Zuko for any signs of life, for any signs of waking.

It began with a subtle movement in Zuko's fingers. Just the slightest twitch.

Iroh made a noise behind her, and in her peripheral Katara saw how he leaned forward eagerly.

Zuko’s eyelids began to flutter and that was about the point that Katara went rigid with anticipation, because she was finally beginning to process that he was waking up now, actually waking up. She wasn’t going to lose him. She choked on a little sob, her eyes filling with tears. Zuko let out a quietly agonized groan, still struggling to fully open his eyes. He tried to lift his arm, reaching for the bewildering and intense pain he was likely feeling in his torso. He couldn’t make it very far, though, and his arm dropped back down onto the bed. He groaned again, louder this time, and Katara saw a brief flash of amber as he tried to open his eyes and failed.

“Zuko!” Iroh’s voice cracked as he leaned further over his nephew.

“Un…cle?” Zuko’s eyes were still closed, his face scrunched in pain. Katara immediately drew more spirit water to her hands and kept healing, her heart in her throat, her eyes flicking up to his face repeatedly. Katara realized tears were slipping over her cheeks already, but that they'd intensified when she’d heard Zuko’s familiar rasping voice, much weaker than usual.

She had wondered, on some of the darker nights she had spent here, whether she’d ever hear it again.

“Yes,” said Uncle Iroh, reaching for Zuko’s hand and squeezing. “I am here with you, Zuko. And Master Katara, too.”

“Master…” Zuko’s brow furrowed, and his mouth twisted, and suddenly there was a palpable anguish and confusion etched onto his face.

“ _Zuko_ ,” whispered Katara, now having to blink the tears rapidly away and out of her eyes so that she could see properly.

His eyes flew open at her voice. Another flash of their golden color.

But this felt menacing, and when his eyes, half clouded, settled on her at his bedside, Katara became distinctly aware that his stare held none of the warmth she had become accustomed to when looking at Zuko. It was still fire, but it was like cold fire; like the shocking chill of an ice cube being dragged down Katara’s spine, or like being doused in freezing water.

_D_ _uck_ , whispered Katara’s fighter instincts, a perfectly timed warning, and she did, dropping to the floor just in time for Zuko’s furious yell. It was a yell that Katara knew well, having heard it many times either just before or during an aggressive attack.

The fire he shot at her barely missed the top of her head.

It singed a few hairs, and Iroh was shouting, and so was Zuko, thrashing wildly on the bed, and quite promptly everything turned to chaos.


	3. The Moon

It had taken five minutes, Uncle Iroh, Katara, and a hastily arrived Aang to subdue and eventually sedate Zuko.

When it was finally done, Katara wished she could sit and try and normalize her erratic breathing. It didn’t feel like she was getting enough air. He’d attacked her. He’d actually attacked her.

He’d yelled and screamed and thrashed, and he’d tried to attack them all, and now his eyes were closed yet again. Katara faintly registered that Aang was speaking to her, but she couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying. All she could do was numbly pull more spirit water to her hands and put them back on Zuko’s wound. He had exerted himself, and could have done further damage.

It was too much. It was too much that he had finally, finally woken up, that she’d felt so blissfully relieved, and now...

She had seen the curl of his mouth, the distaste on his face, just before he’d attacked. And then she’d heard more explosions of furious fire, and Zuko shouting hoarsely at his uncle for betraying him, for working with the Avatar and that peasant water-bender all along. When Katara had popped back up to try and help, Zuko had glared at her with that same mutinous expression, all traces of tender familiarity gone. Katara knew what was going to be said long before the Fire Sage and Iroh were done murmuring together.

Iroh turned toward them bowed his head. “It’s his memory.”

Katara squeezed her eyes shut as if that could ward off the truth.

“He doesn’t remember we’re all friends now, does he?” Aang’s anxious eyes were trained on Zuko slumped on the bed.

Iroh looked very grave indeed. “No,” he said. “He does not.”

“And he thinks he’s still hunting me,” confirmed Aang, looking downcast.

“I’m afraid so.”

The Fire Sage began talking about spirit water sessions and meditation and treatment, and memory resets, but Katara was no longer listening. She couldn’t hold back the smallest of sobs from escaping over her lips. Tears slipped out of her eyes, over her cheeks, and the flurry of them became so furious that she had to pause and pull away from Zuko’s abdomen—the damage that he had acquired because of her, _for_ her—and slip out of the room, feeling suddenly as though it was strangely and terrifyingly airless.

“Katara,” she heard Aang call, concerned, but she ignored him and closed the door behind her.

_Persistent neurological weaknesses, particularly nerve and muscle damage; severe headaches, trouble concentrating, and…_

_Memory loss._

* * *

“It’s recommended that he doesn’t see us when he wakes up again,” Aang told her, finding her out at the turtle-duck pond, where she’d fled to get a shred of sanity. Sokka had found her first, and Aang sank down on Katara’s other side. She was struck, then, by how much older he looked at that moment; how much he’d been through at twelve. How much they’d all been through. Would it ever end? Was this some sort of sick, cosmic joke?

_Not this time_ , her brain whispered, unbidden, with something like determination; and Katara shook the errant, intrusive thought away, suddenly frightened.

“It could be dangerous,” continued Aang. “For us and for him.”

“Of course,” Katara forced out. Her eyes were drooping. All those days without sleep were catching up to her.

“They would see how he reacts to Azula, but that’s not happening for obvious reasons,” said Sokka, who had apparently convened with Iroh and the Fire Sage before finding her here. Katara wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting at the pond. Time was occurring in strange lurches, its passage twisted and skewed. “They were thinking Mai or Ty Lee first. Mai isn’t here yet, but Ty Lee is, so they’re going to give him some rest before trying that meeting. When Mai gets here they said it might tell them more about his recovery, since she’s likely to get the strongest reaction.”

Katara frowned. “Why?”

“She grew up with him like Ty Lee, but she was also his girlfriend,” Sokka said, and Katara’s gaze snapped over.

“How do you know that?”

“He told me,” said Sokka, giving her a strange look. “When he helped me rescue Dad and Suki from Boiling Rock. It sounded like they were broken up at the time, but…”

“But I’m sure she’ll help!” said Aang brightly, lightly squeezing Katara’s wrist and giving her a hopeful look.

“That’s wonderful.” Katara didn’t know how the words got out. It didn’t feel like she’d said them so much as they’d been dragged out of her, and there was a very bitter taste in her mouth all the sudden.

“I think it’s time for you to finally get some actual sleep, Katara,” said Suki’s voice. They turned to see her standing behind them.

“Right,” Katara mumbled, standing up.

She allowed Suki to lead her away, and she was thankful when it was silent all the way to her new room. Suki seemed to instinctively know that Katara didn’t want to talk. Once inside Katara collapsed on the bed, still fully clothed and not even bothering to get under the covers. She only had time to wonder if she should get a tea to help her fall into a deeper, more restful sleep before she nodded off.

* * *

She dreamed of the moon.

It was a full moon, illuminating the sky, breathlessly beautiful, stunning in its glory.

And Katara was standing by the edge of a body of water that seemed to be an ocean, in a place that seemed to be the South Pole because of all the ice, and for a long time she simply basked in the moon’s power in her veins, and on the pale light rippling and dancing its way across the water.

But then something caught her attention. A figure, up in the sky, silhouetted against the moon.

Katara screamed and waded out to her knees in the water, frantically wondering what to do. Because whoever they were, they were falling. They were going to fall headfirst into the icy cold water, and it was too far out to swim, but the figure did not seem afraid. They weren’t yelling or crying out in their descent. Katara reached out a hand, fingers outstretched, calling for them, but it was useless. There was nothing to be done.

She saw the figure also reach out, but downward, toward the still and distant water.

“ _No_ ,” gasped Katara, gutted, devastated, as the figure fell, rolling in midair, tumbling further and further and further.

And Katara shot out of sleep, cold sweat beaded on her forehead, drawing harsh, painful breaths.

* * *

“The good news,” said the Fire Sage, whose name Katara still didn’t know, “is that he remembers most of his life. With the help of spirit water and meditations, the future Fire Lord should make an almost full, if not full, recovery.”

Katara picked moodily at her food. The dinner was tense, quieter than usual, and Katara was running on only one hour of fitful sleep. She wished Iroh were here to cheer everyone up—even Toph was silent and morose—but he was the one who could not leave Zuko’s room now. It was safer that he was the one there. Someone from his old life, someone less likely to be attacked on sight.

Sokka cut straight to it. “The bad news?” he asked briskly.

“It may…take a while,” said the Fire Sage. “I don’t know yet how long.”

“Thank you,” said Aang politely, and the Fire Sage bowed slightly and left them to their meal.

“What about physically?” asked Toph. “If Katara can’t keep healing him…”

“He can take spirit water baths now,” said Katara, though the thought of being replaced and unable to heal or even see Zuko set her on edge. “I don’t think we’ll know the extent of everything until he’s up and about. But I do think,” she added, trying to be optimistic, because Aang and Toph were both looking so incredibly depressed that she couldn’t stand it, “That the fact that he could fire-bend so powerfully was a good sign, though.”

“Too bad it had to be _at_ you and Iroh,” said Sokka, and Katara saw Suki discreetly swat at him and throw him a look.

Toph frowned. “How’s the whole Fire Lord thing going to happen, then? If Zuko is back to, you know, mean Zuko, then…”

“Iroh will have to be regent,” Aang said resolutely. “Until Zuko’s better.”

“An interim,” mused Sokka. “Aang’s right. I hope Iroh agrees, because he’s the only other trustworthy one for the throne, honestly.”

“He will,” said Katara. She’d spent enough time with Iroh to know already that it was true. “He’ll do it for Zuko.”

* * *

For three days, no one was allowed to see Zuko besides Iroh, the Fire Sage (whose name, Katara had finally bothered to remember, was Nime, though it did not endear Katara to the grouchy woman any more anyway), Ty Lee, and a recently arrived Mai.

Reports were regular, and mostly positive.

Zuko could walk now, apparently, and each day he gained a little speed, even if he had occasional muscle spasms that made him double over or collapse to the ground on the spot. Katara despised that she heard it all secondhand.

Finally, on the third day, it was agreed that Zuko was ready to see them.

He’d had consistently positive and nonviolent reactions to both Ty Lee and Mai. He was showing a willingness to listen calmly and quietly to the explanations of his new life and what had happened to him, and the explosive anger he had shown at the beginning seemed to have faded, though it was warned that he was still very irritable.

It was unclear whether the improvements were because he was remembering things or if he was simply overwhelmed with his injuries and desperate for an explanation, but Nime the Fire Sage seemed adamant that it was the second option. “I believe it’s still too early for the memories he’s lost to return,” Nime had explained to them. “He’s not able to relay anything concrete from the past six months or so yet, except his desire to capture the Avatar. But he does seem to explicitly remember his childhood, and the two girls from it.”

And so that was why extra guards accompanied them up to Zuko’s room that evening to finally pay him a visit.

Katara’s heart was in her throat as they walked. She couldn’t help the wild, desperate hope that he would somehow be back to normal; that perhaps in the short stretch of time between the last medical update and now, a miracle had happened and Zuko had come back.

It was immediately obvious upon walking in the room, however, that he had not.

His stare was still the intimidating, cold one that he’d had before. And though his face didn’t hold the distaste or fury of last time, he was undoubtedly very tense. Mai was standing beside the bed, her fingers intertwined in his, squeezing tightly, and Katara felt a hot and unsteady flash of rage. It was brief, but so distracting that she did not see Toph throw a sharp look in her direction, perhaps wondering why her heart rate had suddenly spiked with such fervor. But Katara did feel Toph slip her hand into Katara’s and give an encouraging squeeze.

Katara clung to the younger girl, unwilling to let go of the support, feeling a lump rise in her throat as she noted the way Zuko’s eyes dilated and his jaw clenched tighter when he spotted Aang.

Zuko's face swirled into a painful mixture of open curiosity, contempt, and confusion.

It was Suki that spoke first, breaking the long, awkward silence with forced cheeriness. “So…how are you feeling, Zuko?”

“Spectacular,” he drawled coldly. He rose a brow that was half challenging, half sardonic.

And then his eyes darted over and settled on Katara. He froze, his fingers twitching momentarily toward his abdomen. “So they’re telling me I took the lightning for the water-bender,” he said, watching her reaction very carefully.

His voice was all wrong. It was laced with a casual mockery that hadn’t been there before, a darkness that seemed to twist him right back to the Zuko that had threatened her with her mother’s necklace, or burned Suki’s village on his relentless hunt for Aang. Perhaps worse still was the dismissive way he had said _water-bender_ after Katara had become so used to and fond of hearing the soft way he’d said her name.

_Katara,_ she imagined old Zuko saying. _Thank you, Katara._

Katara’s first instinct was to snap at him, but she forced a tight smile instead. _He did this for me_ , she reminded herself. _Zuko is_ _like this because of me._ _You mustn't be angry with him. That’s not fair._ “That’s right,” she said quietly, and his eyes glinted at her.

“Can’t imagine what I was thinking,” he said bluntly, looking at her with nothing short of malice. “Ruining myself for _you_.”

“ _Zuko_!” Suki was looking at him in horror. Toph’s fingers tightened painfully around Katara’s hand, and Aang and Sokka let out joint noises of dismay and anger. Ty Lee was biting her lip, her eyes darting between Zuko and Katara.

Katara felt just like the figure from her dream, the one that kept recurring now night after night, over and over, falling, falling—

“I’m sure this has been very hard and confusing for you,” was all Katara was able to get out.

_I mustn’t be angry. He’s like this because of me. He did this for me._

Sokka threw her an incredulous look before rounding on Zuko. “There’s no need to be such an asshole.”

“Yeah,” said Toph, jabbing a finger out toward Zuko, her face scrunched up in anger.

“And who are you, exactly?” Zuko asked, dryly, and everyone froze.

“Oh,” said Toph finally, clearly trying to keep her voice neutral even though she looked rather upset. “I guess you don’t remember meeting me yet.”

“I think I’d honestly prefer that right now,” Katara couldn’t help but mutter to her. Zuko apparently overheard because he looked sharply at her, his eyes narrowing and mouth twisting in displeasure.

“That’s Toph,” said Sokka quickly. “Do you, uhhh…remember the rest of us?” He gestured around awkwardly.

Zuko’s eyes flew around again, lingering on Katara longer than the others. “Yes,” he said finally, looking very sullen.

Everyone was probably itching to ask how he last remembered them, exactly, but they’d been told not to question Zuko too much about his memory. He was supposed to be trying to remember under supervision, and with the help of spirit water. And so a heavy silence fell in the room, stifling and uncomfortable. Sokka began shuffling his feet very loudly, stopping sheepishly when Suki tugged on his arm.

“Well if you’ll excuse me,” said Zuko finally, voice hard with irritation, “As exciting as this is, I’d like more rest.”

They all hurriedly began to mutter ‘of course’ and ‘hope you feel better’ and ‘see you soon’, trying not to show their dejection at Zuko's harsh dismissal as they turned to go.

“That was very cheerful,” Katara heard Mai deadpan to Zuko as they filed out.

* * *

Katara woke that night once more from the dream with the figure and the moon, but something had changed.

The figure was no longer plunging headfirst toward the icy depths of the ocean. This time the figure was turned toward the sky, their feet floating toward the top of the moon and their back curving toward the water below. Their arm was outstretched, too, toward the heavens, fingers fumbling and grasping as though desperate.

They were falling, too, and they needed her help.

_No_ , thought Katara, paralyzed by dread, _No, no, no…_

Katara jerked awake, flying up to a sitting position, her chest heaving.

Her arm was extended as far as she could reach, fumbling out and into the darkness of her bedroom.

She dropped her arm and walked very slowly over to the window, trying to calm her fluttering pulse.

It was a full moon tonight. She felt the blood pulsing in her veins, closed her eyes in bliss at the light streaming in through her window and touching her skin. She decided to give up on sleep entirely, and she quickly and silently dressed and slipped out of her room, down the corridor, and to the training courtyard beside the palace. Being the middle of the night, she was blissfully alone. There was only the faintest hint of a warm breeze tickling her cheeks, lifting her hair slightly off her back. As she reached the middle she wasted no time tying back her hair, dropping to her stance, and yanking water much more forcefully than usual from the fountain that stood to the side of a training area intended previously for fire-benders only.

Katara had meant to slowly practice forms, to twirl and dance and do something peaceful under the moon.

But she found herself doing the opposite.

She made ice daggers and began hurling them at the opposite wall. They shattered on impact and Katara just kept going, flinging them over and over without any real target until she switched to ice disks, which she shot out until her arm was throbbing and she had to bend over to catch her breath.

It was just then that Katara realized, rather guiltily, that the wall of the palace was quite near, and that continuous ice shattering could have bothered someone at this hour. She looked up, scanning the windows, and her eyes snagged on a flash of red in an upper floor. It looked like the movement of cloth, the rippling of the sleeve on a robe.

She tried to squint and see better, but all she saw was a fluttering curtain.


	4. Woken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies. IRL has gotten a bit busier for me for the next two weeks in particular, so an update is coming once this week and once next week rather than both Tuesdays+Thursdays. The chapters are more lengthy though!
> 
> Thank you so much for being here. Enjoy!

* * *

Medically, the news about Zuko was sounding optimistic. Missing details were beginning to leak out of his brain, and they were able to determine that he had memories from around the time before the Fire Nation had attacked the North Pole.

The problem was that they weren’t consistent. He remembered out of order. He remembered feelings about things or people but not the specific memories that were attached to them. This, according to Nime the Fire Sage, was to be expected.

It did not make Katara feel much better about the situation.

* * *

Two days of participating in the beginnings of diplomatic talks and agreements and two nights riddled with nightmares of falling figures had Katara slipping down to the bathhouses below the palace one afternoon, hoping to get some peace and relaxation.

Suki had suggested it, likely because she had noticed that Katara was feeling down. The past two days Zuko had also been allowed one visitor from his non-Fire Nation friends. Rather than overwhelming him with everyone at once, they thought one person at a time may be a healthy way to jog his memory, and they’d let him choose who to see. The first day he’d chosen Toph; the second, Suki.

Katara knew that she shouldn’t think about that much, nor should she concentrate on the way Zuko had last looked at her. If it were up to him, he may not want to see her again for quite a while. This wasn’t about her.

It wasn’t about her, and yet she couldn’t help but feel undeniably hurt.

She was pulled abruptly out of her thoughts by the sound of choked gasps.

When Katara rounded the corner she saw that it was Zuko, leaning heavily against a pillar with both hands.

His shoulders were draped with a red silk robe embroidered with yellow lace, the front open to reveal the wraps around his torso as well as flowing trousers, though he was barefoot. He gripped the pillar tighter, his body convulsing.

“Zuko!” Katara ran to him without thinking, taking his arm. It was so taut and tense she was half afraid he’d shatter.

“My—nerves,” he gritted out hoarsely, his eyes squeezed shut as he continued twitching. “Everything—burns.”

“I know,” said Katara. She forced herself to stay calm. “Sit down. Sit. Your back to the pillar, like this…” She guided him carefully to turn, sink downward, and sit at the base of the pillar. The twitching of his muscles lessened considerably but he was still shuddering.

Quickly, Katara pulled water from her pouch and applied it to his wound, even though the slight dampness lingering on his skin told her he’d probably just come from the spirit water bath and she wasn’t sure how much this healing would do for him. But he seemed to relax, and slowly the shaking subsided. When she finally stopped healing him she pulled her hands away and peeked very tentatively at his face. His eyes were closed, his face still scrunched in discomfort, head tilted back against the cool marble. Katara couldn’t hold back a small sniffle, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

When she’d finished brushing the tears away his eyes were open, watching her warily.

“What are you doing down here?” Katara asked. She sat fully back on the floor now rather than kneel over him, giving him space.

“I didn’t want to wait for the sage,” Zuko said roughly. “And I didn’t want to be escorted down here like an invalid again.”

“You can’t do that,” she scolded, her voice still thick. “You’re going to make it worse, Zuko. You can always call me to heal you if it hurts.”

“No,” he said, staring resolutely down at the ground now. His voice was harsh and cold. “I don’t want to.”

Katara felt as though he’d punched her right in the chest. “Oh,” she managed, hoping she didn’t sound too faint.

He pulled his head up to look at her, and her breath caught. There was suddenly the faintest glimmer of the old warmth back in his eyes, among the pain and confusion and frustration.

And then it was gone, and his eyes had cooled. “You…you’re the reason—I don’t understand…” His voice broke, and Katara reached for his forearm, squeezing very lightly and very carefully; he stared back at her, clearly disconcerted by the contact.

Katara regretfully pulled her arm away, and the relief that spread across his face when she was no longer touching him sent a dull ache through her chest. “I know,” she rushed to say, nearly breathless in her haste to reassure him. “It’s okay, Zuko. It’s all okay and I understand. I just wish I could help more. I’m so sorry.”

He closed his eyes. “I can’t,” he muttered. His face twisted in anguish. “I want to remember so badly, but I can’t. It makes me all twitchy. I can’t stop wondering if this is some sort of trick. If you’ve all tricked me somehow. Or if it’s all even real at all.”

“Don’t push too hard,” Katara said, even though her heart was thumping fearfully in her chest. “Take your time.”

“It’s the worst with you.” Zuko was looking at her again, something almost accusing in his gaze, and she was that figure from her dream, falling, unable to breathe, plunging into the icy water and unable to draw air into her lungs. “You make it worse. If I see you or think about you too long my head starts to throb. I think it’s because you were involved with…” He gestured feebly over himself, over his injury and the vein-like red spiderweb patterns sweeping permanently across the skin on his abdomen and chest—his second permanent scar, willingly taken this time. For her.

So Katara pushed away the vague sense of rising panic and her personal feelings and just smiled gently. “You were so brave,” she said. “I’m sorry I make this harder for you. How can I help you best right now? Can I help you get to your room or to someone else?”

Zuko just nodded briefly, closing his eyes again. But an undeniable, hard anger had settled on his sharp features. This Zuko did not like being helped, and he especially did not like that it was her. Katara hated to push it on him, but she couldn’t very well leave him here either.

“Here,” she said, swallowing her sadness and stooping to help him up. “Let’s go.”

* * *

A week passed.

Zuko did not request to see her or Aang, but he did get visits from the others.

Katara’s nightmares got worse.

Iroh settled in as the temporary Fire Lord.

Aang began making plans to travel to the air temples and restore them, though he would make regular and frequent visits to the Fire Nation to work with Iroh and see Zuko if that was possible and Zuko was feeling up to it.

Sokka and Suki, too, were getting restless. Katara had not asked her brother again what he planned to do, but Suki had recently told Katara that she wanted to ask Sokka to stay on Kyoshi Island with her. “Not permanently,” Suki had said quickly, one evening as they sat by the turtle-duck pond. “Of course. And he may even just want to go home, which I’d obviously understand. I just thought it would be nice to have some time. Just…some time, after everything. For the two of us.”

“Suki,” Katara had said warmly, squeezing her hand, “I’m sure he’ll say yes. And I would miss him, but I really hope he does.”

Toph was staying here, with Zuko, and that would have been Katara’s first instinct too, but…

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea,” said Sokka carefully, when Katara mentioned staying and helping Zuko heal, another few days later and just after the announcement that he and Suki were headed to Kyoshi Island together.

“Why not?” Katara asked, trying to keep her voice as normal as she could possibly manage. She didn’t really manage—it still came out shrill. She already knew. She just didn’t want to know.

Sokka did not back down from the cold truth of it, which perhaps was part of the reason she had come to talk to him in the first place. Maybe she knew what she needed to hear and trusted Sokka to say it. “You know that it helps Zuko more not to see you,” he said. “You and Aang, at least. For now. It’s getting better!” he scrambled to add, seeing the expression that had crossed Katara’s face. “He was acting really normal yesterday.”

“How nice,” said Katara stiffly.

“The sage just thinks he has an easier time with less intensity or trauma attached to a person,” Sokka said. He looked so apologetic Katara could hardly stand it. “With Aang he was hunting him for so long, you know? And with you there’s the whole lightning thing, I guess? So…”

“So he wants me to leave.” Katara lowered her eyes to the floor.

“He never said he _wants_ that—” Sokka began, but Katara sighed, cutting him off by raising her hand impatiently.

“But he does. That’s fine,” said Katara. “I get it, I really do. I want him to get better.”

And so that was how Katara eventually decided she wouldn’t wait any longer to return to the Southern Water Tribe.

She’d turned Aang down when he’d asked her to join him, not wishing to accompany him to the air temples, knowing that helping rebuild the south was just the distraction she needed. Plus, she missed home. She could be with her father, and Gran-Gran, and she would make a difference where it was needed. She could teach bending and healing. Yes. Perfect.

Having plenty to do, working toward a bigger purpose, helping rebuild her culture—that was what she needed now.

* * *

Katara hovered outside Zuko’s door on her final evening in the Fire Nation. She had asked if she could come say goodbye, and had been given an affirmative answer. So here she was, trying to brace herself for the interaction.

It wasn’t going to get any easier just standing here, so she knocked, ignoring a lump that was rising in her throat.

It was Iroh who answered, and a wide smile spread across his face at seeing her. “Ah! I have missed seeing more of you, Master Katara!”

“Hi Fire Lord Iroh,” she said, a genuine smile spreading over her face. “Me too.”

“Come in, come in,” he said. He bowed so low that the Fire Lord crown piece nearly toppled right off his bun.

Katara’s eyes immediately found Zuko as she was ushered in. She was happy to see that he was no longer confined to bed. He was sitting at a table, a Pai Sho game lying before him. His face looked almost peaceful, though a brief spasm of tension went across it when he saw her. Still, he forced a small smile. Even if it wasn't a genuine one, Katara was glad for the effort. “Hello,” she said. She almost cringed when her voice came out much higher than usual.

“Hi,” he replied, courteous but clipped.

Katara shuffled her feet uncertainly. “So, as you know I’m…heading home.”

“Yes,” said Zuko simply.

“Well, I thought I’d just come…say goodbye,” said Katara. She felt desperately stupid for stating the obvious, but she was out of other ideas. She also wanted to run over and hug him and yet knew that wouldn’t be welcome at all. There was a stiff line of stress in his shoulders already and she hadn’t even been here for a full minute. “And, um, that I hope things will get easier for you, and that you’ll feel better. I would obviously stay as long as I needed to if that helped you, but…” She shuffled her feet again.

“I know.” A barest hint of warmth was back in Zuko’s voice, and Katara looked up hopefully. He was giving her a very small smile, and it was less forced. Katara’s heart leaped; the beginning kindling of hope that one day, _one day_ , things could be normal again.

“If you ever need me, just…write me, okay? Or just write me to keep me updated, if you…if you want.” Her voice was small.

“Of course we will,” said Iroh, and when Katara met his eyes there was something glimmering in them that she couldn’t quite interpret.

There was a pause.

“Actually,” Katara said quite suddenly, “Could I have a word alone?”

Zuko blanched, a distinct unease settling across his face, and Iroh, too, looked uncomfortable. “Prince Zuko has lapses in temperament which might make that unsafe for you both, Master Katara,” he said finally, very carefully. “Another unfortunate side effect from the memory damage.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean with Zuko,” said Katara. “With you, Fire Lord.” She clasped her hands together and bowed her head slightly.

Iroh blinked twice in surprise, letting that information settle in, before he was smiling kindly again. “Of course. Shall we walk?” Katara nodded gratefully, and Iroh addressed Zuko. “I can send someone to keep you company,” he offered.

“Don’t bother,” said Zuko. He shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”

“Bye,” Katara told him, wondering why she wanted to cry even though this interaction had gone much better than the other two.

Maybe because it was strange to simply say goodbye without hugging him, or without showing any affection at all. Maybe because she didn’t really want to leave him, even though she knew that was best. She was almost out the door when her sentimentality got the better of her. She half turned back. “I’ll miss you,” she told him, quietly. “I already do.”

Katara saw Zuko open his mouth and close it, looking thunderstruck, before she and Iroh were in the corridor.

They were both quiet as they made their way through the palace, accompanied by guards. Iroh asked the guards to leave them as they arrived at the gardens, though it wasn’t until they were deeper into the maze of hedges and flowers that he spoke. “What is on your mind, Katara?”

“I have a…” Katara hesitated. She had no idea how to explain it; that lingering thing in her, following her since the Agni Kai. “Spiritual problem.”

“I will do my best to help,” Iroh said.

“Can you keep secrets?”

Iroh smiled. “If it is not a life-threatening secret, then yes. No one will hear of it.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “Not even Prince Zuko.”

Katara looked sharply at him. “How did you—”

“Casual observation,” said Iroh. His mouth gave an amused little twitch upward. “Please, continue.”

“Okay.” Katara took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Well…it all started when Zuko was hit by lightning. I don’t really know how to describe it, but there was something inside me. It both was me and wasn’t me. I know how it feels to do things automatically in times of stress, you know, like in battle. But this wasn’t it.” Her voice was rising now, adamant that he understand. “It was like it woke up. It woke me up to…” Katara’s cheeks warmed. “To him.”

“I see,” said Iroh. His brow furrowed, his eyes glassy and fixed on some nearby hedges, apparently deep in thought.

“And, um, I’ve been having these terrible dreams. But there’s one I keep having, over and over. There’s a figure in the sky. They’re always falling into the ocean, into the cold. I want to help them, but I can’t. I don’t know why it’s so frightening, but it is.”

There was a pause as they rounded a corner. Iroh clasped his hands together and hummed thoughtfully. “Are you in love with my nephew?”

Katara froze at the direct question. “I don’t know,” she said, quietly. Honestly. “I know that sounds ridiculous,” she added, “After what I just told you. That’s the strange thing about it. But if I were to answer yes or no directly, they would both feel like the truth and like a lie.”

“Hm,” murmured Iroh. He looked so lost in thought that Katara didn’t dare speak. His eyes were so far away she wasn’t sure he’d hear anyway. And then he smiled at her. “There is a lot of change happening right now, Katara. It is only natural that you are confused and maybe even frightened for the future, even if the worst of the fighting seems to have passed. I think it is a good thing that you are following your path and Zuko his while he heals. And he _will_ heal,” added Iroh, seeing the fear flit across her face and understanding it immediately. “He has already begun to remember snippets from his travels with me in the Earth Kingdom. I see more of him every day. And this gives you time to heal as well. We must all adjust to a new world. It will not be easy.” He paused. “As for the dreams, and this feeling that something changed inside you…meditation is often helpful when we seek to understand our psyche. Have you ever tried it?”

“No,” Katara admitted. “Maybe Aang could teach me the basics. He’s the one taking me back to the south pole.”

“I think that is a great idea,” said Iroh, giving her a warm smile before patting her shoulder. “We must give ourselves time, Master Katara.”

* * *

Four months passed.

Katara felt as though her life was regaining something resembling normalcy.

But she was surprised by how quickly she’d felt trapped in her old home, how easily she’d gotten restless. Only one month in Aang had arrived for a visit, and she’d agreed to let him take her on a trip to the Earth Kingdom for a few weeks, where he had heard rumors about descendants of air nomads. Katara suspected that after so much time on the road—or rather, in the air—that adjusting to staying in one place again was hard for her.

She had been both happy and sad to return home after that, and she didn’t think it was just the lack of movement. It was also the lack of her friends. Even Sokka had still been away at that point, in Kyoshi Island with Suki. The day he’d arrived and brought her with him to stay in the south pole for a while, just two weeks ago, had been one of Katara’s happiest days in the past months. If not the happiest.

There were, of course, other issues at home besides her loneliness.

Northerners had come down from their sister tribe to help rebuild, and many of the male visitors wrinkled their nose at seeing her as the bending master of the south. It got very tiring having many of them either condescend her or pursue her rather than taking her seriously as their teacher. Katara had also been blissfully unaware of the sheer amount of tension that had existed between the two tribes—even long before the Fire Nation had started the Hundred Year War—and at the beginning she had found herself at many diplomatic meetings that had devolved into shouting matches.

Still, it was fulfilling when she saw how the Southern Water Tribe was prospering under the leadership of her and her father. Now that Sokka was back he was joining the efforts as well, and Katara, at least, now had him and Suki here for company.

Katara kept tabs on the happenings in the Fire Nation, but only because Iroh and Toph wrote her.

They told her that Zuko was recovering, that he could spar lightly again even if it was only for a short time (‘And I’m _really_ enjoying kicking Sparky’s butt, too’, Toph had gleefully informed her in one letter), and that his muscle spasms or the nerve pain that had plagued him so badly in the beginning was becoming a rarer and rarer occurrence. His memory, too, was still slowly coming back.

Zuko’s letters, however, were conspicuous in their absence.

Every time she thought about that Katara wanted to smash something. Or cry for a few hours. Maybe both.

Instead she wrote back to Iroh and Toph, remaining carefully cheerful, and then threw herself into her efforts for her tribe even further.

* * *

Katara wasn’t sure what time in the morning it was when something leaped on her in her sleep.

Not late enough, certainly.

“Ahhhh!” Katara cried, flailing her arms and trying to sit up but struggling against a weight on top of her.

She heard giggles and felt light punches on her shoulder before a shout sounded right in her ear. “HEY THERE, SUGAR QUEEN!”

There was more laughter which Katara vaguely recognized as Sokka and Suki.

“T—Toph?” Katara was still half-asleep and her vision was blurry. She had slept terribly. Her recurring dream still happened with a vengeance; it had not let up over the four months since the Agni Kai. Last night she had watched the figure hit the water and proceeded to scream herself hoarse. It was very disorienting to wake up to this right afterward.

“That’s right,” Katara heard Toph’s voice say, and Katara finally blinked rapidly, still pulling herself from sleep, and was able to focus on Toph’s face right in front of her. The young girl was grinning, and so were Sokka and Suki, standing in the entrance of Katara’s hut.

Katara blinked again. And then she smiled. “Toph!” Katara exclaimed excitedly. “You’re really here!”

“Good observation, Sugar Queen,” said Toph, moving to stand and laughing. “Little slow, but I forgive you. And I brought you something.”

“You did?” Katara rubbed her eyes and yawned. “You mean besides your intrusive greeting and your attempt to break my eardrums?”

“Yeah!” said Toph. “I know, I know, I’m so thoughtful.” Her grin widened. “So get up, come on! Come outside.”

“Outside? Can’t I sleep a little bit longer? Just bring it to me here.”

“No. Up! Get dressed!” Toph leaned down and punched her shoulder again. “I promise you’ll thank me.”

Before Katara could ask more they were filing out, throwing her mischievous looks of excitement. Even though Katara would have loved to sink back down and keep sleeping, they all looked so thrilled that she was curious despite herself. So she forced herself out of her warm blankets, yanked a comb through her hair, and dressed before stepping out and into the brilliantly bright day.

It took her another moment for her eyes to adjust to the way the sunlight glinted off the snow.

A small hand wrapped around her forearm. Katara peered down to see Toph, who began yanking her off another direction. “What is this, Toph?” Katara asked, laughing. “Where’s this thing that you need to give me that you’re so happy about?”

“Yeah, so about that,” said Toph, chaotically delighted, as they drew toward a group of three figures in blue coats convened near Sokka’s hut. “See, it’s actually less of a _thing_ and more of a…person.” She pulled Katara all the way over to the group.

“A per—” Katara’s mouth snapped shut when the tallest figure turned completely to face her.

She stopped in her tracks, eyes widening and her heart catapulting into her throat. “ _Zuko_?”


	5. More Than Once

It _was_ Zuko.

It was strange to see him in water tribe attire, but it was him, and he was actually here.

Sokka and Suki were on either side of him, beaming wildly, but Katara hardly looked at them.

He’d changed in the past four months. He’d changed a surprising amount. His hair was even longer, and he was tall, so much taller. The set of his shoulders had gotten even wider, his facial features sharper. His cheekbones were flushed in the cold. But the biggest change, and the most important one, was that his eyes and smile were sincere as he looked down at her. “Katara,” he said, “It’s good to see you.”

Katara nearly choked. She felt tears welling up in her eyes and had to force herself not to start crying.

A lot of responses ran through her mind, all of them questions, none of them something any socially conscious person would actually ask.

Such as—

‘ _Why didn’t you write me?’_

Well, natural that she’d want to know, but definitely not the best conversation starter. “ _Do you still resent me for your medical condition?_ ’ was not happening, just like ‘ _Do you remember_ _that I kissed you_ _after you tried to die for me_?’ also seemed equally inappropriate.

“It is?” she replied instead, without thinking, and something flickered in his eyes. “I mean,” Katara stammered, feeling strangely breathless, “I’m glad you think so. I obviously—I’m so happy to see you, too.” An uncomfortable heat crept into her neck, but she vigorously ignored it.

She was struck by the brilliance of his eyes. And the sharp line of his jaw, and his mouth as it quirked up in a small smile. “What?”

“What?” Katara blinked a few times, realizing she’d been staring. “Oh, um, nothing, you’re just…so…tall now.”

His mouth curved up more. “And you’re still tiny,” he observed, his eyes dancing. “But I assume just as deadly as ever?”

“Shut up,” she laughed. Her chest felt light as air. A million butterflies were dancing in her stomach.

Suki suddenly reached out and snatched Sokka and Toph both by the arm. “Let’s go pack the snacks.” She began pulling them forcefully away so quickly that Katara completely missed the smirk Toph threw her direction.

There was a brief silence in which Katara swallowed hard and just stared up at him again, heart fluttering.

Zuko’s eyes were trailing slowly about her face like he was memorizing it. She had the feeling that he was linking it with pieces of memories that he had regained over the months. She wondered exactly what was clear in his mind and what wasn’t. It was a strange feeling, standing before someone who was learning you all over again.

“The snacks?” she prompted finally, trying not to look as flustered as she felt.

“Apparently I am being taught the art of penguin sledding today.” He looked amused.

He seemed so _normal_. Not exactly like he’d been before; something about him was still halted and careful, and he looked at her—not warily, exactly, but with something uncertain nonetheless. Still, the improvement was incredible. “You seem much better,” she commented.

“I _am_ much better,” Zuko agreed, nodding. “There are still big gaps. But I remember a lot of things now.”

“Oh,” said Katara. “So do you remember…” Her eyes flicked down to his abdomen and she bit her lip, looking back up at him.

“No,” said Zuko, giving her a slightly questioning look. “Not yet. Nime thinks that might take a while.”

“I see,” said Katara. Her voice shook. She swiped away a few stray tears that had fought their way from her eyelids and onto her cheeks.

“Are you upset that I’m here?” He suddenly sounded and looked rather anxious. “I didn’t know if I should just show up. It was Toph’s idea. I—I wasn’t exactly sure if you would want to see me,” he finished, voice low.

“No, no!” Katara reassured him. She reached out to touch his shoulder without thinking and he jolted, tension and bewilderment suddenly flitting across his face. She quickly snatched her hand away. “Sorry,” she mumbled, mortified, and his face twisted. “I’m just so relieved and I’m _so_ happy you’re here. I can hardly believe it. I’m just not really sure what to say or—or do. I don’t know what you’re comfortable with.”

“I don’t either,” he admitted. “I don’t have all my memories and it’s like I…now I _feel_ that we’re friends and I remember the feeling well most of the time, but I don’t explicitly remember how or why. Only pieces. It's confusing, so sometimes I still react…not quite right to things. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Katara said. “Don’t be. I understand.”

“Logically, yes,” Zuko said. His voice was quiet, his eyes were intent on hers. “But I think I still hurt you, don’t I?”

Katara swallowed a lump in her throat. “That doesn’t matter.”

“How can you say that to me?” Zuko’s eyes flashed and his fists curled; Katara’s eyes widened at how his body was vibrating with sudden, irrational anger. “Of _course_ it matters,” he spat, glaring at her, and Katara only gaped at him a few moments before his shoulders slumped and he deflated right before her, the spark in his eyes disappearing as quickly as it arrived. He inhaled, a deep, shuddering breath, closing his eyes. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I sometimes, uh…have these outbursts. Nime said that’s also from the lightning. They’re getting better, and I can recognize them pretty quickly now, but…” He suddenly scowled furiously at the ground. “I’m messing this up.”

“You’re _not_.” Katara’s hand twitched out, about to take his wrist and squeeze reassuringly before thinking better of it.

He surprised her by reaching out and taking hers instead. “I hope you can forgive me for being so cruel to you, Katara. I didn’t mean it.”

“All that matters to me is that you feel better now,” she said gently. “I mean that."

“I know you do.” He looked agonized. “I’m sorry I didn’t write you. I should have.” His eyes had become pleading. “I sat down to do it so many times. Ask Toph, she’ll tell you. I didn’t know what to say, which isn’t an excuse, but nothing I wrote seemed sincere, and—”

“ _Zuko_. Enough apologizing, okay? We’re good.”

He let out a breath. His face was still twisted in slight distress. “Right. Yeah. Okay.”

There was a brief silence in which Katara wondered if he’d just been torturing himself over the past few months. Her heart squeezed.

“Katara,” Zuko said after a moment.

“Yes?” He was so close. He’d definitely stepped closer. He smelled like patchouli and cedar. She wanted to skim her hands over his broad shoulders, wrap her hands around the back of his neck, and yank him down to her. The urge was almost unbearable, and it felt like it was coming from inside her again. Pulsing, pounding like a drum, just like the Agni Kai. Katara didn’t know what was wrong with her.

“I have a question,” Zuko continued carefully, “About the Agni Kai.”

Katara worked hard to swallow. “Oh?” she got out, trying to appear casual.

“Yes,” said Zuko. “Did I…I don’t know. Do that more than once?”

Katara blinked. She had not been expecting that at all. “What do you mean? Do what?”

“I don’t know,” he said, frowning. A crease appeared on his forehead that Katara rather helplessly noted was ridiculously attractive. She wondered if it would crease like that when he looked over Fire Lord paperwork one day. She wondered if he would want Mai to kiss it away and soothe him and help him relax. “I remember so little from that day. There’s only a few small pieces, like—like us flying there together. The sky was red. And…” he trailed off. His eyes had been over her shoulder, far away as he tried to remember, but now they were locked back on hers. “I don’t remember being struck,” he said quietly. “I don’t remember the fight. But I do remember one thing.”

“What?” Katara’s mouth had gone very dry. She could feel her rapid heartbeat in her ears.

_He knows. He remembers._

“I remember running for the lightning,” said Zuko. “And I remember what I was thinking when I did it.”

Again, not what Katara had been expecting. She gazed up at him in astonishment. “And what were you thinking?”

Zuko’s eyes went a little hazy. “Not again,” he murmured. "Not this time."

Katara opened her mouth and closed it again. Her ears were ringing loudly and she felt a wave of nausea.

She was back at the Agni Kai, and that lingering thing was there, chanting at her as she ran to his side, then haunting her for the horrible weeks right after he’d been struck.

_Get to Zuko._

_Not this time, not again._

“It was like a mantra,” said Zuko, the crease on his forehead deepening even further as he thought. “I don’t know. I just thought I should ask you, because it doesn’t make sense. That would mean it happened more than once.”

“No,” Katara said finally, a little hoarsely. “It was only once.”

Zuko’s eyes flicked about her face. “I thought so,” he said, a forced lightness to his voice. “I felt like it probably would have come up sometime in conversation if I’d tried to die for you twice.”

Katara just smiled weakly.

“I shouldn’t have asked,” Zuko deduced, still looking carefully at her.

“No, you can ask me anything,” she said quickly. But she felt suddenly very nauseous again, and she staggered.

“Katara?” Zuko’s hands came to her shoulders. He sounded urgent. “ _Katara._ ”

“What?” Her eyes had gone out of focus, but when they came back Zuko’s face was hovering near hers, staring down at her in concern.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Yes, I…yes, I’m fine.” As she looked at him, Katara was struck with a sudden, powerful, and almost dizzying urge to kiss him senseless. She quickly stepped away, noticing while doing so that her knees were shaking so badly that she was struggling to stay on her feet. “Maybe we should go find the others,” she suggested, and then forced a smile before glancing back at him. “I can’t wait to see you on a penguin.”

Zuko still was looking at her doubtfully. “Okay,” he agreed finally, and they set off to locate their friends.

* * *

“Finally,” said Sokka, when Katara and Zuko found the others waiting to leave. He thrust two small backpacks at them. “Let’s go.”

They had trudged through the camp and were just about to break into a wide plain of pure snow when Katara halted in her tracks. “Oh no,” she gasped. “I can’t go, I just remembered—”

“I canceled your teaching sessions this afternoon,” said Sokka. “We have very important diplomatic work to do.”

Katara snorted. “Diplomatic work? What, with the penguins?”

“I was more referring to the part where we keep in good graces with the future Fire Lord,” said Sokka, grinning over at Zuko.

“I won’t be Fire Lord for a while,” Zuko commented. “I definitely won’t be ready on my eighteenth birthday. I think it will still be a few years. Uncle says he wants to give me some time to relax and slowly learn the ropes.”

“Still, never hurts to start early,” said Sokka, throwing a casual arm around Suki’s shoulders.

“Where’s Aang?” Katara asked. “Didn’t he want to come? It doesn’t feel right to all be together again without him.”

“He’ll be here tomorrow,” said Toph. “He had to finish up something at the southern air temple. And...” She peeked tentatively over at Zuko.

Katara didn’t miss the look. “What is it?”

“Last time I saw Aang, I had a…relapse,” said Zuko. “Thought maybe it would be better for me to have a day to just adjust to—here. First.”

Katara blinked. She was quite certain that “here” actually meant her. “Oh,” she said. “So you…”

“Attacked him again, yeah,” Zuko said heavily, looking very downcast.

“How did that happen?” Sokka pressed. “Hadn’t you already seen him a few times before that?"

“Yeah,” said Zuko. He sighed. “But it’s not like my head makes sense anymore. I think I was just having a…very bad day.”

“He was,” Toph agreed, nodding sagely. “You woke up with that horrible headache, remember? He has those a lot, but sometimes he can hardly see. All the curtains have to be closed and he can’t even move. Then there was that whole mess with Ozai’s supporters, and you and Mai had that big fight. Oh, then you were scheduled to visit Azula. So I think Aang showing up unannounced was just the cherry on top. Zuko just sort of lost it.”

Katara’s gaze swung over to at Zuko. He was staring forward and looked very uncomfortable.

“Oh, so you’re back with your girlfriend?” Sokka asked, clearly trying to change the subject. Katara wished he would have picked literally anything else to talk about from what he’d just heard. She fidgeted with her coat.

“Uh…yeah,” said Zuko. It did not appear that he wanted to talk about it either. In fact he seemed desperate to avoid the topic. Katara worked very hard to keep a neutral expression on her face even though her insides were twisting unpleasantly and she could sense Suki’s eyes on her.

Toph snorted. “Well, barely.”

Zuko let out a groan of frustration. “Toph, seriously _?_ ”

Toph looked unfazed. “You know you need me to be the honest one, Sparky, that’s part of the reason I’m there.”

“You know, most of the time I actually suspect you stay there so you can make everyone purposefully uncomfortable with your freakish ability to detect a lie,” Zuko grumbled.

“That’s definitely part of it,” said Toph cheerfully, knocking her shoulder into his side affectionately as they walked.

“Why isn’t it going well with Mai?” Suki asked.

“Her father refuses to support my uncle and I,” said Zuko. A muscle twitched in his jaw. “And she won’t condemn him very harshly.”

“Yikes,” said Sokka.

“And now Zuko’s also got himself in really hot water,” said Toph, and Zuko threw her a look of supreme irritation.

“What did you do this time, jerk-bender?” Sokka asked.

“What?” sputtered Zuko. “I didn’t do anything!”

It was clear that Toph was fighting a grin. “Remember that play? From the Ember Island Players?”

“Toph,” growled Zuko, menacingly, but the younger girl ignored him.

“Well, he and Mai went to Ember Island last week for a little getaway and—”

“ _No_ , Toph. Enough.” Zuko’s glare was vicious.

Sokka snickered. “Now you know what it’s like to have a little sister.”

“Oh _please_ , Sokka,” Katara said, rolling her eyes scathingly at her brother, “You would have been helpless without me growing up.”

“She has a point,” said Suki. “You almost burned down my kitchen trying to surprise me with dinner that one time.”

“Hey, I’m improving!” said Sokka indignantly.

Suki just patted him consolingly on the shoulder, a smile playing across her lips. “I appreciated the thought, honey.”

“At least Katara doesn’t always know when you’re lying,” Zuko muttered. “Or nervous. Or when you have any change in heart rate whatsoever.”

“Oh, I know when Sokka’s lying,” said Katara. “He’s terrible at it.”

“Am not!”

“Are too. You have a tell.”

“A _tell_? That’s preposterous. What’s my tell?”

“You obsessively scratch your nose,” said Suki and Katara at the same time, then caught each other’s eye and dissolved into laughter.

“You two think you’re sooo funny,” said Sokka.

“No, you just aren’t as secretive as you think you are,” said Suki, grinning.

“Zuko?” Toph turned, concern suddenly etched across her face. Despite her lessened ability to 'see' due to all the snow, she had been the first to notice that his footsteps had trailed off and he had fallen behind the group. Everyone whirled around. He was still moving, but he was very hunched, and Katara saw that his arms were starting to twitch.

“Go on,” Zuko got out. His words were stilted and faint, his face twisted with sudden pain. “I’ll catch up.”

Katara’s feet began to move of their own accord. She was at his side in seconds, pulling healing water to her palms and running it over his arms. “Sit down,” she told him. She was trying her best not to sound anxious.

“I don’t need—”

“Zuko, sit down!” Her voice was sharper than intended, but it worked. He blinked, surprised, before he started to slowly sink to the ground. His legs gave out at the very end and he collapsed, half slumping onto Katara. His body was starting to shudder and convulse again, agonized gasps escaping his mouth. Katara knelt, immediately pushed him to his back, got more water, and pulled desperately at his jacket and his shirt even though it made him shiver. She methodically healed his torso and tried not to hear the pained sounds he was making. They were like spikes through her heart.

A few tears escaped from her eyelids and only made it halfway down her cheeks before they froze on her face.

When his body had finally relaxed, Katara pulled his shirt and coat back together to ward off the frigid cold. Zuko lay very still on the ground, eyes half open. “Thank you, Katara,” he said hoarsely, turning his head slightly to look at her.

Katara was suddenly and very vividly reminded of the day of the Agni Kai.

The same words. She was even quite certain these were the exact positions they had been in, her kneeling on his right side and hovering over him, eyes full of worry. His eyes dilated and widened just slightly as he stared at her for a moment, as if he recognized it too—and then he let out a small yell, scrambling to sit up and reaching up to clutch at his head.

“Oh, what is it?” Katara cried anxiously, pulling more water, prepared to put it on either side of his head.

“Headache.” Toph’s voice was solemn. The others had hurried over to gather around them.

“Here, Zuko, let me…” Katara reached toward his head, but she gasped in surprise when he harshly knocked her hand away.

“ _No_ ,” he snarled. He glanced between his fingers; his eyes were watering and he was squinting. “It’s not that serious.”

“It doesn’t look that way to me!”

“It’s _normal_.” Zuko’s voice was still cold and rough, just like his outburst earlier. The small bit of his eyes that he could keep open were flashing dangerously, and his body was shaking again. “I don’t need you to heal me or act like I’m dying every time, I’m not frail! This is _normal_ , but it’s not like you’d know that, would you? Not like you’ve been around, have you?”

Katara felt like he’d pushed her right into the ice-cold ocean. Her lungs burned. She couldn’t breathe.

“Zuko,” Toph began quietly, but Zuko threw her a contemptuous look that Toph couldn’t see. Katara had the feeling it didn’t matter. The air was practically crackling with Zuko’s anger, and whether Toph saw it or not it was very likely she felt it. Katara certainly could.

“You’re not being fair!” Katara cried out finally, her face screwing up angrily. “I wanted to be around! You didn’t want me, Zuko!”

“Don’t talk to me about fair,” Zuko snapped. His chest was heaving.

“Zuko,” Toph tried again, but he just continued to seethe, ignoring her.

“I’m just trying to help,” Katara shot at him.

“Well you’re _NOT_!” Zuko roared, and everyone jumped. Zuko’s face was screwed up in pain, the corner of his eyes streaming tears from the headache, but it didn’t stop him. “You think that having you cry over me all time and having you around, looking like some sort of—kicked _otter-puppy_ makes me feel any better? I don’t your pity or your sadness or your—or your _guilt_!”

There was a long, shocked silence.

“I almost watched you die!” Katara shouted back, not even bothering with trying to control her emotions anymore. “What do you _expect_?"

“Zuko, you’re having one of your outbursts, you need to—” Toph began, but Zuko cut her off.

“Oh, shut up, Toph,” he said, very bitterly.

“Enough.” Sokka’s voice was suddenly bordering on dangerous. “Zuko, man, I know your situation sucks, but don't talk to them like that.”

Katara scrambled to her feet. She was shaking with rage. “I’m going back.”

“What? But Katara—”

“Leave it, Sokka.” She turned sharply and began stalking off the direction from which they’d come.

“I’ll come with you,” said Suki, starting toward her.

“No,” hissed Katara, over her shoulder. “Everyone stay away.”

She marched away from the shocked silence, crossing the icy plain alone; furious, freezing tears streaming down her face.

* * *

Katara did not emerge from her hut when she heard Sokka outside, telling her it was time for dinner.

She did not emerge when Suki came shortly after and reminded her that it was time for dinner.

She was seriously considering never going into the outside world again.

Katara was just exhausted, both physically and emotionally, and all she wanted was her bed, so she fell into it much earlier than usual.

It didn’t take her long to nod off to sleep once her head had hit the pillow.

The dream with the moon returned that night.

It had never left her entirely over the past year. Always the same thing, over and over. She had watched the figure fall, had been afraid for them, had tried to yell for them and instead had woken up gasping and shaking.

Tonight was different.

Tonight the air was whistling past her ears, and it was cold, so unspeakably and horribly cold.

Katara stretched her hand out, aware of the moon’s light behind her, gleaming on her skin.

And she saw the ocean below her. It was rising up to greet her. The water in the dark of night was menacing, but Katara bent her fingers, and felt the moonlight, and she pulled, intending to bend the water up to meet her, to soften her entry into the unforgiving deep. But the water didn’t bend. It didn’t move. She had no control, no power, and when she flipped over her hands, panicked, to see what was the matter, she saw a flash of red on her right hand; a poignant dot right on the center of her palm.

She crashed into the water, hard, and she flew awake, choking on a scream and tumbling right out of bed, her legs twisted in the sheets.

Katara peered down at her hands, breathing erratically, but there was no glimpse of red to be found on her palms.

“It was me,” she whispered to no one, to the empty silence. She tucked her knees to her chest. “I was the one falling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had more time than thought and can't stick to a schedule to save my life, so here's a new chapter earlier than planned!
> 
> By the way, if anyone wants to chat/get to know each other/follow each other, I'm [over on the hellsite that is tumblr dot com.](https://ladyaniko.tumblr.com/) I'm new to the fandom and I would love to get to know more people.
> 
> Thank you again for reading and everyone who has been giving love, especially in the comment section. You're the best.😊


	6. Feverish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm writing little ficlets when inspiration sparks from prompts for the Zutara Drabble December event and I have a few other projects I'm working on (honestly just way too many), so while December is a month with a lot of writing time and posting, the updates for the multichaps will be coming a bit slower, though still coming. Just a little FYI.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this installment!

* * *

Katara tossed and turned, but she couldn’t get back to sleep.

Being the one hurtling through the sky in the dream was so much worse than watching it happen to someone else. Not to mention that she couldn’t stop replaying everything that had happened that day. It had been going so well with Zuko. And then…

She couldn’t stop hearing his words in her head, over and over, even as she tried to push them away.

And there were other things to think about too. Such as why Zuko had been thinking the same thing as her at the Agni Kai, right down to the exact words. Or why she had felt so woozy and still did whenever she thought about it too deeply.

Her hands tingled again. It had happened plenty of times throughout the night but once more she had to examine them, leaning toward the lantern she’d lit and yanking off the sealskin gloves she wore to scrutinize her palms more closely. Still no red dot.

_Just a dream_ , Katara told herself firmly. _Pull yourself together. You’re losing it._

To top it all off, there was also a very unwelcome tickle slowly building up in the back of her throat all night.

By the time the early pale light of dawn was approaching it had become dreadfully uncomfortable to swallow. And by the time the sun was up completely Katara was feeling so terrible and so exhausted that she wasn’t sure she’d be able to pull herself out of bed to once again cancel her bending classes for the day. She was actually very grateful when Sokka came into her hut so she wouldn’t have to leave it.

Katara knew that she probably looked horrific. Sokka’s face expression when he saw her seemed to confirm this.

“What happened to you?” Sokka asked, frowning. “Did you sleep at all?”

“Not really,” croaked Katara.

Sokka had been walking toward her but stopped suddenly, looking incredibly uneasy. “Are you sick?” He held up his arms as if he could physically ward off the disease. “Because Suki leaves in a week and I do _not_ want to be sick for her last days here.”

Katara flashed him an irritated look. “Yes, I’m sick. Stay back then.” And then she paused as she felt a rush of dizziness and a startlingly uncomfortable flash of heat roll through her body. “Is it abnormally hot right now?”

“No,” said Sokka slowly. “It’s extra cold today.” He sighed. “You’ve got a fever. I’ll get some medicine from Gran-Gran and ask Zuko to make you some tea to soothe your throat.” He turned to go.

“No!” Katara yelped, and then grabbed involuntarily at her throat with a wince when raising her voice had felt like something had viciously scraped the inside. Sokka turned, raising his eyebrows at her. “I mean…can’t you just bring it in to me? Please?”

Sokka eyed her. “You know,” he said. “He’s been in a bad mood since yesterday. Do us all a favor and smooth things over between you two.”

“Is now the best time?” Katara was sounding scratchier and scratchier. “I can barely talk.”

“Then let him talk to you.”

“Sokka—”

“I’ll talk to your students and tell them you’re sick, too,” he told her, and then he really did leave, quickly, before she could protest further.

Katara scowled deeply and leaned back into her pillow. If Sokka sent Zuko in here to see her with her limp hair, bags under her eyes, and generally grotesque sickly appearance, she would strangle him once she had the energy.

She was promptly distracted from fretting over Zuko, however, by realizing that she was freezing all the sudden.

How had she just been so warm?

She yanked the covers all the way to her chin and shivered and shivered, trying not to let her teeth chatter and also trying to ignore that every swallow was increasingly painful. Katara hoped that whoever made the tea would put lemon in it. If Zuko didn’t know to do it then Gran-Gran would. Katara’s thoughts swirled. She felt dizzy again.

When the room came back into clearer focus, someone was ducking inside the hut. It took Katara a few moments of concentrated staring and aggressive blinking to fully realize that it was Toph. “Do you have no sense of privacy?” Katara mumbled. She tried to raise an eyebrow but found that she was literally too tired to do even that.

“Hello to you too,” said Toph. “If you sleep in the nude and need to get dressed, say so now. Otherwise I’m telling Zuko it’s fine for him to come in.”

“I don’t want to be joined, I want to be brought tea and medicine and then be left alone,” rasped Katara irritably.

“Because you’re naked?”

“What? No, but—”

“Perfect. Zuko!” Toph called, head half turning toward the entry. “You can come on in!”

“Toph—”

“Shh. Just accept it, Sugar Queen,” said Toph as Zuko ducked inside, carefully balancing a tray of tea.

Katara’s heart somehow both leaped and dropped upon seeing him. She felt it so vividly in her chest it was actually a little excruciating. Apparently her body wasn’t too tired for those sorts of reactions, which was incredibly annoying. Toph’s head turned sharply to her, but Katara was eternally thankful when she didn’t comment. Katara scowled even deeper again and pushed back violently into her pillows, as if she could burrow into them and disappear.

Zuko walked slowly over, set the tray of tea beside her bed, and turned to look at her. She knew he was looking, even if she stared very pointedly and determinedly at the opposite wall. She was sick. She was sick, and she was tired, and she could be petty for another few minutes if she wanted to.

“Well,” said Toph, far too casually, “I’m outta here.”

“What?” Katara’s eyes swung over, feeling vaguely panicked. Toph’s presence meant she wasn’t alone with Zuko.

“Bye,” Toph said. She gave Katara an impish little grin and then turned to leave the hut, stumbling over something in her path on the way. “Stupid snow,” she grumbled, before exiting and leaving an uneasy silence in her wake.

To put off the moment where she had to think what to say—she was increasingly finding that thinking was making her brain hurt anyway, not to mention that she felt dizzy again and a not-so-delightful nausea was being added to the mix—Katara closed her eyes and sunk deeper into her pillow, pulling the covers up all the way to her nose.

“I’m really sorry you’re sick. And for yesterday.” Zuko’s voice was soft. It made her want to hug him and throw something at him.

“Okay.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say.

He sounded suddenly curious. “Why does she call you that?”

“Huh?” Katara finally dragged her gaze over to look directly at him, blinking sluggishly.

“Sugar Queen,” he clarified.

“Talking too much hurts,” she muttered hoarsely, sinking even lower, her words muffled by her covers.

“Right, of course, sorry. Then, uh…here. Drink some tea. There’s medicine in it too,” he suggested. He was seemingly not offended by her less than friendly attitude. His eyes were just trailing over her with deep concern.

Katara nodded, shifting to sit up a little so she could take the cup he poured her. There was a lemon slice wedged into the top of the cup. She stared at it for so long that Zuko must have gotten apprehensive, because she heard him say nervously, “Do you not like that? I can make you another one.”

“No…I do.” She took a sip and the few seconds of relief on her throat was heavenly. “Did Gran-Gran tell you?”

“No,” Zuko said. “My mother used to do that for me when I was sick, so I thought maybe…” He had averted his gaze down to the tea tray and appeared lost in thought. His head started to swirl as Katara looked at him. Why was his head swirling? Katara blinked again a few times to make it stop, and it did, but the dizziness came back with a vengeance. She took another long gulp and nearly sloshed tea all down her front.

She felt warm fingers brush hers and barely contained a little gasp. Zuko was carefully plucking the tea cup from her hands, which were shaking violently. “I think I should set that down,” he said gently.

Katara didn’t argue. She just sank lower again, half covering her face. “How did your mother die?” she blurted out.

Huh. Well that had been done in the least sensitive way possible. But it was rather hard to think properly when the room was starting to tilt.

“I’m…not actually sure what happened.” His voice was quiet. Calm. He didn’t seem upset that she’d asked.

“You told me you lost her,” Katara mumbled, squeezing her eyes shut. It felt very bright in the hut all the sudden.

“Did I?” Zuko sounded puzzled, and Katara’s eyes flew open to look at him, even if it made her wince.

“You don’t remember that?” The room was tilting further and further. Katara closed her eyes again, but the tilting still felt like it was happening right inside her chest. She slowly inhaled and then let out a long, shuddering exhale.

“Apparently not,” Zuko said pointedly.

There was a longer pause. She was just wondering if she should apologize when he started to speak.

“I guess that’s how I always thought of it. Just: I lost her. Because I never really…I don’t think I ever processed it until much later. Processing it meant thinking deeply about my situation, I guess, and I couldn’t afford to do that as a kid.” Zuko sighed. “One day, when we were kids, Azula convinced me to sneak in to spy on my father and my grandfather, Fire Lord Azulon. My uncle’s son, Lu Ten, had just died. We saw my father ask to be given the right to the throne instead of my uncle, and my grandfather got angry for him daring to ask it. The fire blazed higher, the room started getting hotter…I was frightened, so I ran off. Azula stayed…”

Katara no longer cared how bright it was or if it hurt her brain: her eyes were open wide and watching him as she shivered under her blankets. Zuko’s gaze was glassy, fixed again on the tray of tea, a slight frown on his face.

“She came into my room later,” he continued quietly. “She was taunting me. Told me that my father was going to kill me. I didn’t believe her. Or I did. I don’t know. Azula did always lie, but…but it sounded so real. She said that my grandfather had told my father that as punishment for asking him to betray his firstborn, that he had to know the pain of losing his firstborn. My father was told to kill me and Azula said he was going to. My mother overheard Azula taunting me and took Azula away. And later that night—” Zuko suddenly made a small choking noise in his throat, swiping tears from the corner of his eyes. “Sorry,” he said thickly. “Later, my mother came to me. She told me everything she did was to protect me. And then she left. I never saw her again. No one ever told me—I just assumed she’d died—”

The only thing Katara could register was pure horror. She just lay there, frozen in her bed, unable to process it.

When she finally could process it properly, a hot flare of righteous anger on Zuko’s behalf curdled her stomach.

And then her stomach lurched harder.

“I’m going to throw up,” Katara whispered.

“Tell me about it,” Zuko muttered. “It was definitely not the best childhood.”

“No, I really—Zuko, I’m going to throw up!” Her stomach wrenched violently again and a bitter taste invaded her mouth.

“Oh." His eyes widened. "Oh shit.” Zuko sprang to his feet and desperately searched about until he located a bed pan and thrust it at her. Katara snatched it, leaned over the side of the bed, and vomited right inside, only becoming aware that Zuko was right beside her and holding back her hair when it was over.

“Go away,” she mumbled, miserable and ashamed. Her throat was burning and tears were streaming down her cheeks.

“That’s not happening.” Zuko took the bed pan despite her whine of protest and set the contents on fire with a sharp fist jab before handing her the cup of tea. Katara took a large swig to get the acidic taste out of her mouth, still shaking, and then slumped backward against the pillows again.

Great. Just great.

“Go away,” she tried again. She sounded weak, not commanding as she had wanted to sound.

“No.” When she looked at him, his eyes were blazing with defiance.

Katara wanted to argue further but she didn’t have the energy. The room was still tilting. And then she realized she wasn’t shivering anymore. In fact, sweat was beading at her temple. She was suddenly so hot she could hardly stand it. Katara pushed the tea cup into Zuko’s hands; he took it, surprised, and set it down just in time for her to push the covers frantically away and swing her legs over the side of the bed.

When she stood, she swayed on her feet.

“Whoa, hey—where are you going?” He came to stand right before her, holding her upper arm, blocking any further movement.

“The bed was turning too much, I needed to—the world turned and—and it’s too hot!” she wailed, trying to step around him. “Isn’t it hot? It’s hot. I need to lay in the snow. Yes. Snow. And the ground—not right side up—everything shifting—”

She became dimly aware of a hand resting on her forehead. “Katara, you’re really burning up.” There was a sudden blurry image of amber eyes hovering in her vision, full of distress. And then she felt careful hands on her shoulders, starting to steer her back to the bed.

“No,” she protested, almost sobbed. She reached up and weakly beat on his chest with her fists. “Need to lay—in the snow—so hot—”

“That is definitely not what you need to do. You need to lay down here right now and be very still while I go get you more medicine.”

“What’s going on?” Another voice sounded from further away. Toward the snow. The glorious, cold snow.

“She’s currently convinced she needs to go lay in the snow. More medicine, Sokka,” said Zuko. His voice was rough and urgent. “Hurry.”

Footsteps moved away again. Katara found herself being continually nudged back toward the bed and burst into loud tears, even as she passively followed the movements and let him draw the covers up to her chin again. “Don’t cry,” she heard Zuko say. His voice cracked. She felt fingers moving through her hair, over her forehead, across her cheeks. “Sokka’s bringing more medicine. You’ll sleep and feel better.”

“You...forgot,” Katara mumbled, now mostly delirious.

The hand tenderly brushing through her hair froze for a second before resuming its movements. “Which part?” he said quietly.

“It was important,” Katara cried. “How could you forget?”

“I’m so sorry.” Zuko’s voice cracked again. “I didn’t want to. Can I fix it? What happened? Please tell me.”

Katara reached out blindly above her, toward his voice. “I—you—the same words—the Agni Kai—”

“What?” Soothing hands were wrapped around hers now, squeezing tightly. “Katara—?”

“I have it.” Sokka’s voice was back.

“Damn it,” Zuko swore under his breath, not for Sokka to hear. And then he said, “She’s scaring me, Sokka. You should get your grandmother.”

“Gran-Gran said she just needs to ride out the fever. This is stronger stuff. It’ll knock her right out. Here, lift her up so I can help her drink it.”

Katara choked when she felt hot tea on her lips, but the boys were persistent, and she got down a cup of it before she was helped gently back down again. Their voices were beginning to fade away into murmurs, quieter and quieter. Black was creeping in from the edges of her eyelids.

“In about thirty seconds she’ll just be knocked out for a while,” said Sokka. “You should come get some breakfast while we wait.”

“I’m not leaving.” Zuko’s voice was sharp.

“Okay,” Sokka said slowly, after a very long silence.

They were still talking, but it was no longer distinguishable. The medicine had done its trick, and she knew no more.


	7. Red String

Katara woke nearly the same way that she drifted off; slowly, groggily, though without the distinct mumble of voices. Just silence.

Even with the powerful medication in her system Katara had dreamed…something. It was difficult to remember, but she did know that it hadn’t been her regular dream. She tried to picture it again, tried to reconstruct it carefully in her mind, but only faces swam behind her eyelids. They weren’t faces she knew. All strangers. Different genders, different ages, different places.

Still, their faces niggled at her. They seemed so familiar…

And then she realized why she recognized them, and she knew who she needed to talk to.

She shot up with a gasp even though her eyes were still closed, the name tumbling from her lips involuntarily. “Aang!”

There was a shifting noise beside her, the scraping of a chair, and a quiet, sleepy groan. And then a hand was on her shoulder, pushing her back to the pillows again. With tremendous difficulty, Katara peeled open her heavy eyelids.

Zuko still sat in the chair beside her bed, his gaze sleepy but becoming steadily more alert. He brought one hand up behind his neck, rubbing furiously, his face twisted in discomfort. He rolled his neck, and Katara heard a distinct pop. “Just me,” he said. “Aang did get here while you were asleep. He came to check on you a lot.” His eyes scanned her face. “Can you wait to see him? It’s the middle of the night.”

“It…is?” Katara rubbed her eyes.

The tilting of the room was gone. Everything that happened after the world had started to spin was very fuzzy, but she thought she remembered Sokka showing up at some point. Her throat still ached and was horribly raw, and the nausea was still swirling her stomach, but the uncomfortable, burning heat was thankfully gone, though it was replaced by a deep cold that made her teeth start to chatter loudly.

Zuko reached over and tugged the blankets higher. “Yes. But I can go get him, if you’d rather have him here.” A brief flare of something like displeasure passed through Zuko’s amber eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

“No,” Katara said. “That's okay. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

“Do you feel better?” He sounded very gentle.

“A little.”

There was a very long silence, only broken by Zuko stifling a deep yawn. He watched her for a few moments and Katara continued to avoid his eyes. But finally, he cleared his throat. Twice. Even so, his voice was still hoarse when he spoke. “I’m really sorry, Katara.”

“I know.” She did know. She just wished she understood it better. She’d understood Zuko so well before. Now it was like she always had to piece him together. Come to think of it, that must be how he felt all the time now. With everyone. Even himself.

Pity and affection welled up in her. How frustrating.

Zuko was already heating up more tea with his bending, likely because of the way Katara wheezed slightly when she talked. “Toph and I were talking about my outbursts,” he said, tentatively. “She pointed out that they usually happen when I’m actually upset, not angry.”

Katara met his eyes. “You sure sounded angry to me when you called me a…what was it? ‘ _Kicked otter-puppy_.’”

He winced. “I know. That’s part of the problem. I’m not trying to make excuses, I swear. I know my behavior is…” He hesitated. “If you ask me to go home early I will. I just wanted to explain…I just want you to know that you’re not doing anything wrong even if I…” He stopped. His shoulders slumped, and he looked dejected again. She felt herself softening even further in response.

Katara folded her arms tightly across her chest. Not as a defensive act, nor an accusatory one. Rather, it was a form of self-comfort. She was mentally preparing to ask a question she had wanted an answer to for a very long time. “You told me I make everything worse. You seemed angrier with me than the others. Do you…” Her words caught in her burning throat for a moment. “Do you blame me?”

“Katara, _n_ _o_ ,” Zuko said, earnestly.

He seemed to decide the cup was no longer too hot for her to have, because he held out the tea. Katara moved to sit up, took it, and began having tentative sips. Her stomach was still rolling, but not too viciously. And thankfully the urge to throw up had not yet returned. She stared up at the steam rising from her tea cup, not knowing what else to say.

Her throat hurt too much to speak more than necessary anyway.

“It’s just…” Zuko ran a distressed hand through his hair. “I always have this…constant, low-level frustration I guess. Because of my injuries and everything. I can’t even go on a longer walk without…” He stopped, lips pursed, and exhaled quietly. “I know it will get better, but it’s still permanent. I’m just adjusting. And then everyone else always seems to know more than I do. About each other. About me. And then they’re upset for me, and I don’t like that they’re upset. And I get really confused and upset and I feel—helpless. And for some reason I act…well, angry.” His pleading eyes met hers. “I think it’s like the old me comes out for a few minutes to fill in the gaps so I don’t have to feel all the other stuff. It helps me cope maybe. There’s still so much I don’t remember so I guess it’s easier to revert to that and be angry than to feel like I’m hurting people I care about.”

To her utter horror, Katara found tears welling up in her eyes. She quickly set down her half empty tea and covered her face with her hands. “I’m so sorry,” she croaked. “I know it’s been hard on you so I’ve—I’ve been trying to keep it together—”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Zuko rushed to say, his hand coming to squeeze her shoulder. “I was just explaining—I don’t want you to feel like you have to repress—oh, hell,” he muttered to himself, exasperated, and Katara peeked through her fingers, half surprised, half fearing another outburst; but she only caught a split second of him leaning toward her before he had pulled her into a tight hug.

As soon as she was against him Katara’s teeth stopped chattering. She relaxed against him completely with a little sigh of content, having to resist the urge to bunch her shirt up in his hands and clutch at him like her life depended on it.

“You’re very warm,” Katara mumbled, turning to rest her cheek on his chest and sighing happily again.

Zuko’s arms tightened. “Might be that whole fire-bender thing,” he said, and she heard a smile in his voice.

Katara laughed weakly and even though it hurt her throat she couldn’t quite bring herself to care.

“Can’t I do something to help you?” Katara asked finally.

“You just—confuse me most,” Zuko said. She couldn’t see his face but his words were careful. Guarded. “But that’s not your fault.”

Katara got the next words out with difficulty. “Why am I confusing?”

“I was hoping you could tell me,” he said quietly. He hesitated and pulled back to look at her. “I have a summary of, you know, the main events of what’s missing from the others. But there’s a few gaps.” He was staring at her again with that intent, concentrated look he’d had when she’d first seen him again. As if he were committing her to memory or willing her face to trigger something. Katara’s heart pounded relentlessly, her pulse jumping out of her neck. His face was very close.

She tucked her head back down against his chest again, finding that safer. And warmer. “Like what?” Her voice still sounded hoarse.

“Well, I…I remember less of you than the others. But I remember you yelling at me a lot.” It sounded like he was frowning. “I remember trying to make something better. I waited outside your tent to talk to you…you were really angry with me…” He trailed off, concentrated, trying to puzzle back together the bits of memory, the shattered shards. “I remember us fighting a lot—I mean, uh, with bending. I remember being on a ship with you. You did something…curled your fingers. The man twisted and went down to the floor…”

Katara winced, but thankfully Zuko couldn’t see her. He sounded far away and preoccupied.

“And then I have the few pieces of the Agni Kai that I told you about before,” said Zuko. His arms tightened imperceptibly again. “And I got another one when we were out in the snow. You were kneeling over me just like that day, weren’t you?”

Katara felt frozen even though she was pleasantly warm. She’d known his mind was fragmented but hearing all the broken pieces just made it settle in harder. Again, she considered how terrible it must be; what a strange disconnect to reality he must feel. “Yes,” Katara said finally, in almost a whisper. “That’s it? That’s the only somewhat positive memory you have of me? The others are all just…menacing?”

 _No wonder he_ _often_ _flinche_ _d_ _when I touch_ _ed_ _him,_ Katara thought, her heart sinking.

Zuko hesitated. “There’s, uh, one more.”

“What is it?”

She felt his body get slightly more tense against hers. “We were—in a cave,” he said. “There were green crystals. And…” Katara felt his throat bob as he swallowed hard. “You were standing before me. And you were…”

He leaned back to look at her again, searchingly, his hand trailing up automatically. His fingers drifted up to linger on the left side of his face. “You were touching my scar. I don’t let people touch my scar. But I let you.”

“Do you remember more?” Katara asked, struggling to maintain her composure.

“Not really,” muttered Zuko, a dull flush of shame starting to creep onto his cheeks. “But I know what happened, because Uncle told me the rest. He said I joined Azula and went back to the Fire Nation for a while. I have a few pieces of that, too. I assumed that’s why you were so angry with me, but…but you seemed angry when the others weren’t. Why? It was something about the cave, wasn’t it?” He looked suddenly very desperate. “Were you and I—friends? Before I actually switched sides? Did I betray you personally? When I was in Ember Island last week it seemed everyone there thought—there was a play and apparently we—and the piece of memory I have doesn’t really seem to speak against—”

He stopped his nervous rambling. The flush on his cheekbones was getting more pronounced and he dropped his gaze.

Katara’s lips parted in surprise as she understood.

Oh. _Oh_. That horrid play.

Zuko didn’t know if the play’s version of their imprisonment had truth to it. All he had to go off was a brief flash of memory where she was caressing his face and standing very close to him; where he was allowing her to do something he didn’t allow others to do.

“I had offered to try and heal your scar,” Katara said, her throat suddenly very dry. It did not help the throbbing already present from her sickness. “I had special spirit water. That’s why I was touching it. We weren’t friends yet, but we’d just had a bit of an…understanding. We realized that we both lost our mothers to the Fire Nation. I saw you as a real person for the first time, I guess. You seemed lost and hurt and confused and I wanted to help you. But before I could try healing you, your uncle and Aang came to rescue us. And then when the choice came, you still chose Azula. I trusted you first. I offered to use the spirit water on you. And then Aang almost died.”

Comprehension dawned on his face. “Oh…” Then Zuko grimaced. “Sorry. It felt weird to ask but—well. Last week on Ember Island people were pretty awful to Mai about it. She wanted to know if you and I…” He trailed off rather awkwardly.

“No. And that's okay. Of course you’d want to know,” said Katara. Her chest ached even as she forced a smile. She suddenly wanted nothing more than for him to move further away from her, even though she suspected the feeling of immense cold would return as soon as he did. She looked away. “Could you—can you get me more tea? With medicine? I want to sleep again.”

Nausea was returning and her throat was in flames. She hoped that if she did end up puking it would happen once Zuko went off to get medicine. She could feel his eyes on her face for a moment, but then he finally stood up from her bedside. “Sure.” He took her tea cup. “Be right back.”

Katara leaned back and tried very hard not to feel the swirling of her stomach or think about that conversation in the slightest.

She didn’t throw up while he was away, so she focused on keeping her stomach settled when he came back and set the tea down to let it cool. When he sat back in the chair, Katara fought not to fidget.

“I have another question,” said Zuko. “If you’re up for it.”

“Okay.” She really wasn’t, but she’d waited so long to hash things out with Zuko.

“Is there something I should know,” he said carefully, “about that Agni Kai?”

Katara stopped herself before her eyes got too wide, but she thought he might have noticed her face expression change briefly, because his eyes flickered. “No,” she said, staring determinedly at her covers now and trying not to look too guilty. “Why do you ask?”

“Something you said when you were really feverish,” Zuko said, and Katara’s heart did a funny and very uncomfortable little twist.

Her stomach lurched again. She was able to swallow the bitter taste in her mouth this time, but just barely.

“Oh?” She hoped she appeared neutral.

“Yeah, you said something about words, and the Agni Kai…and you said I forgot. You seemed upset that I forgot something important.”

The way he was looking at her was so imploring. Almost like it was killing him. Katara felt horrible, but there was no way she was telling him. Not when he might potentially snap at her. Not when he had Mai to return home to.

“Oh well…I think I was just really out of it,” said Katara, reaching for the tea.

He handed it to her, but his movements were stiff and angry. “You’re _lying_ ,” Zuko hissed, eyes flashing, and Katara shrunk away automatically. But this time the outburst was brief. She watched it fade out of him, the spark sputtering out of his eyes like a dying fire slowly burning out to embers, and his shoulders slumped yet again, a look of pure disappointment coming over his face. “Sorry,” Zuko muttered. “Sorry, I—I think—I can tell you’re upset, so that made me upset, and so I—I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” said Katara, very gently. “It helps that I understand it better now. And you caught it really quickly this time.”

She watched a myriad of emotions flick across his face as he stared down into his lap, hands clasped tightly. She saw desperation. Frustration. Irritation. Sadness. Some that went by that were too quick to recognize. When he looked up, however, his face was carefully blank. “Are you sure?” he said finally, even more slowly now.

“Yes," said Katara, sipping her tea. "Everything is fine.”

* * *

Katara hadn’t had the heart to ask Zuko to leave her hut; she’d tried, delicately, to insist that he go get some rest on an actual bed, but he’d very stubbornly told her that he was staying, so after a while it had been decided that he would read to her until the medicine made her drowsy enough to fall asleep.

So it was Zuko’s scratchy voice reading her favorite book of Water Tribe stories that lulled her off to sleep.

When she woke it was late morning, and she only did so because there were loud voices inside her hut.

She noted that she was starving even before she opened her eyes, so she hoped that meant there was no vomiting in her future, even if she still felt tired and stuffy and scratchy and would have to be in bed all day again.

“—be _quiet_? You’re going to wake her up!”

“She’s had about twenty hours of sleep by now, Zuko, she probably _needs_ to wake up—”

Katara opened her eyes. Everyone was in the tent, and when they saw her stirring their gazes all immediately flew to her and then lit up.

“Well!” Sokka exclaimed. “About time!”

“Wh…what time is it?” Katara mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

“Almost noon.”

“Feeling better?” Suki was smiling at her.

“Yeah,” said Katara slowly, moving to sit up. “I’m hungry now, so I think that’s a good sign.” She noted Aang perched beside Zuko, giving her a bright smile. “Hi, Aang,” she said happily. “Sorry I got sick right when you arrived."

“Don’t apologize, Katara! I’m so sorry you aren’t feeling well.” Aang reached out and squeezed her hand. Somehow he looked even older than the last time she’d seen him. It had been a couple of months, but it never astounded her how much he seemed to grow each time.

“I’ll get you food,” said Zuko gruffly, moving to stand and exiting the hut.

“And I’ll help him,” said Suki. “You’ll probably need more tea, too.”

“Could I talk to Aang?” Katara asked Sokka and Toph. “Just for a few minutes?”

Sokka rolled his eyes but took Toph by the arm and led her out, promising her that now he would finally “show” her a penguin, leaving her alone with Aang, who squeezed her hand again. “Is everything okay, Katara?”

“Yes. I actually have a question for you,” said Katara.

“Oh. Is it about—about us?” Aang looked tentative. And even a bit apprehensive.

Katara just blinked. “Oh,” she said. “Um…well…”

She expected disappointment, or for his boyish features to fall at her hesitancy, but Aang was still smiling at her. “I’ve been waiting patiently since the end of everything to bring it up. I realized I pushed you too far last time I tried to talk to you about it. I’m sorry about that, Katara.”

Katara smiled warmly and squeezed his hand right back. “I accept your apology, Aang. Thank you.”

“Well, I waited to see if you would talk to me and—sorry for bringing it up now. I thought maybe that was it.”

“It’s okay, Aang. It’s just that—well…” Katara had not been expecting to have this conversation right now. She hadn’t thought about having this conversation at all. Aang was much calmer this time so at least the anxiety wasn’t overtaking her like at that play. And if he still thought of her that way then she probably should tell him directly. She suddenly felt very guilty for not doing that earlier. “I don’t think that you and I are…I mean, I think of you as a friend, Aang,” said Katara carefully. “You’re wonderful, it’s just that—”

“Don’t worry,” Aang cut in. “I think you're right.”

Katara blinked in surprise.

“Well that’s great, Aang,” said Katara, regaining her composure and squeezing his hand again. “I mean that.”

“Thanks, Katara.”

“I can’t believe how much older and wiser you are after only another half a year,” Katara said, almost wistfully.

Aang grinned at her. “Then maybe I can help with your actual question?”

“Right. Well, when you taught me to meditate after the war I think I told you that I’ve been having those dreams? The ones where I’m falling?”

Aang nodded rapidly. “Uh huh. Are you still having them?”

“Yes,” said Katara. “I feel like it’s getting worse, too. Now I’m actually the one falling, and sometimes I even hit the water, and…and anyway, when I was sleeping yesterday I had other dreams. They felt just like little flashes, not full dreams, but…but I saw a lot of faces. All sorts of people. And when I woke up, I realized that I think I’ve seen them before when I try to meditate.” Katara felt suddenly sheepish. “Not that I’ve been very regular or diligent about meditating,” she mumbled. “But still, I wondered if you had any ideas about that?”

Aang looked very thoughtful indeed, his thumb stroking her hand almost unconsciously. “Hm. It almost sounds like past lives or something.”

“Past lives?” Katara stared at him, open-mouthed. “But I thought only the Avatar had those.”

“I don’t think so,” said Aang. “I think it’s rare, but it can happen. Maybe you should take some spirit water baths and it could help you recover something. You could visit the North Pole or the Fire Nation palace?”

“What about the Fire Nation palace?” Zuko was ducking back into the tent, Suki on his heels, both carrying trays of tea and food. Zuko’s eyes lingered over Aang’s hand resting on hers before he sharply averted his gaze.

Katara wasn’t quite sure how to silently and desperately communicate to Aang not to tell the others without them noticing, so she just sat and tried not to cringe when Aang said, “I’m telling Katara she should go visit your palace to use the spirit water baths.” Katara pleaded he would stop there, but unfortunately he did not. “We’re wondering if she might have past lives that are trying to communicate with her.”

Hastily, Katara reached out with both hands for a tea cup and took a drink, nearly choking in her haste to take a gulp. It was far too hot.

“What makes you think that?” Zuko frowned in thought.

“Ever since the Agni Kai, she’s been having these recurring dreams,” said Aang, and Katara wanted to shrink into the covers even though she wasn’t sure why she didn’t want this information to be known by all her friends. Or maybe it was just Zuko.

“Well, what are the past lives trying to say?” Suki said. She looked both intrigued and amused.

 _I don’t know_ , Katara wanted to tell her, and probably would have if both the boys had not been present, _But Zuko is definitely involved._

The thought had come out of almost nowhere, but she knew it was true. The brief memory of her conversation with Iroh suddenly flitted through her mind. _It was like it woke up_ , she’d said to him, the best way she could describe that feeling inside her. _It woke me up to him._

Katara clutched the tea tightly, hoping that would quell the sudden trembling in her fingers. “That’s the question,” was all she said.

* * *

The time of Zuko and Toph’s visit went by far too quickly. They hadn’t planned on staying long in the first place, but the fact that Katara had been sick almost the entire time made it seem like she’d blinked and then it was over.

Suki was to leave shortly after them, in a few more days. Aang would stay longer, thankfully, but after…

Katara already felt depressed thinking about it.

Just her and Sokka again. Her and her mostly ungrateful northern male students for combat training.

She’d gone to bed early the night before they were to depart. And when she’d fallen asleep she’d again dreamed that she was falling, just like nearly every night. This time, however, something else changed.

This time the red dot on her hand began to grow, and Katara stared, marveling at it as she fell through the sky.

Soon it was unraveling, pushing out of her hand, and Katara realized that it was a string. She reached out her hand, and the string tangled around her palm. She watched the trail it formed with distinct fascination, forgetting that she was falling, even as the wind hurled past her and she careened through the sky. She was just transfixed, staring at how the string now weaved its way across her other hand, encircling them both in delicate bows and loops before it stretched onward.

Katara tried to push through the air with her legs to follow it, reaching out. Almost there. She felt a distinct triumph, fingers curling—

There was a little cry of surprise, a masculine one; a hand pushed her backward and Katara recoiled and stumbled back with a little gasp.

And then she jerked awake. She was somehow on her feet.

“ _Shit_ ,” she heard a raspy voice say. “Shit, so sorry—”

She stumbled backward again, disoriented and terrified, looking around with wide, wild eyes. She tried to focus her eyesight. “Wha—I don’t—”

The voice was strained but much calmer now, clearly trying to soothe. “It’s okay. It’s fine. You were just sleepwalking, Katara.” A hand came to lightly touch her forearm.

“I don’t—where am I?”

“My hut. You’re safe,” the voice repeated, and Katara looked to her right for the source of it and finally she could focus.

It was Zuko beside her. He was in nightclothes and his eyes were slightly bleary.

“Why…I don’t…” Katara still felt groggy and sluggish, and her head was throbbing. She was also shivering like mad.

She swayed a little and Zuko’s hand tightened on her arm, keeping her upright and steady. “Has this happened to you before?”

“No?” Katara blinked a few times, still seeing the vivid red that she’d been following in her dream. “Where is it?”

“Where is what?”

Katara just brought out her hands and stared at them. No red dot. No red string. She wanted to cry in frustration.

When she looked up again Zuko was watching her dubiously. “Maybe you’re not even fully awake yet.”

“I’m awake,” Katara said automatically, and Zuko chuckled quietly.

“Yeah? Well you also look freezing.” He raised his eyebrows and looked pointedly at her.

Katara blinked slowly and then glanced down at herself, becoming very aware that she had a nightdress on. She had on warm wrappings underneath, obviously, for her legs and arms, but it was meant just for sleeping. It wasn't nearly enough to ward off the frigid arctic cold at night temperature if she’d walked over here from her hut as she slept. “Oh,” she said, feeling the mortification coming as she slowly woke up more and more.

Zuko stepped away and brought back a blanket to drape over her shoulders. Katara pulled it tighter, trying not to shiver. Once again she pulled out her palms and stared at them. There was no red to be seen. _It was a dream_ , she reminded herself. _You’re awake now._

“Just a dream,” Zuko confirmed as if he’d heard her thoughts, and when Katara looked up at him he was watching her with a distinct curiosity.

“I don’t—why are you awake?”

A flush suddenly flared over his cheeks. “You—well you sort of, uh…woke me up.”

“I did? How?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, the flush getting more pronounced. “You…tried to crawl on—uh, well…into my bed.”

“I—I _what_?” Katara gasped. “Oh I’m so sorry, I…um, maybe I was cold.” She wished she would have just wandered about outside and let the cold slowly take her. Anything was better than this embarrassment. Zuko couldn’t even look at her.

“Well you were…saying my name,” Zuko said haltingly, and Katara realized that yes, actually, the embarrassment could get even worse.

She just gaped at him, and Zuko ran a flustered hand through his hair. “You sounded—frightened. You were reaching out, like—like you wanted to hug me. I didn’t know…it scared the shit out of me to wake up to someone right there so I pushed you at first and I…I’m so sorry about that, Katara.” He finally met her eyes and he looked pained.

“But—but you weren’t even in my dream!” Katara said desperately, frowning now. “I was following something, and…” Again she peeked down at her palms. She wasn’t sure why she kept expecting to see the red string again. It just felt as though it should be there.

“Why do you keep looking at your palms?” Zuko stepped forward, looking urgent. He took her wrists and flipped them, staring at them.

“There was something red coming out,” explained Katara. “A string.”

Zuko’s eyes moved from her palms up to her face. They scanned her carefully for a moment. “Are you all right?” he asked slowly. “I’m honestly still not sure whether you’re fully awake. People can have whole conversations in their sleep, you know. There was this one guy on my crew when I was banished—” He stopped. “Not important. The point is…” He frowned. “How do I know you’re awake?”

Katara pinched her arm, hard, and yelped. “Well that hurt,” she said. “So I assume I am.”

A fire suddenly blazed to life in Zuko’s palm. He held it out, away from his body, and then opened the other arm. “Come here,” he said. She wasn’t sure if she’d just imagined that his voice got huskier. “I don’t like how you’re shivering. Who knows who long you were walking around out there.”

Somehow this felt like a very bad idea to Katara, who was increasingly finding that Zuko tested her self-control in ways she had never previously had to deal with. But she _was_ absolutely freezing, so she stepped forward and let him encase her in an incredibly warm one-armed hug. The effect of the nearby flames combined with his body heat was also almost instantaneous. In less than a minute she felt almost normal again.

“Thank you,” she whispered, pushing a little closer as the little quakes in her body from the cold receded and then finally disappeared.

“Yeah. Sure.” Yes, his voice _definitely_ had gotten a bit deeper. It was also supremely unfair that she could feel hints of his wiry muscle through his nightshirt. She had to get out of here before she did something stupid and kissed him again. That would be wrong, and he would be upset with her. He had Mai. Katara would not and could not cross that line, despite the little pull in her that wanted to.

“I should go,” she mumbled, pulling away and heading toward the door.

“Wait.” Zuko hurried after her. “I’ll walk you with this.” He gestured to the fire in his palm. “And I’m going to lock you in your hut. What would have happened if you hadn’t come to my tent? The temperature outside—Katara, it could have killed you in that.” He pointed to her clothes. As they stepped out of his hut and into the biting air he kept going, his voice getting rougher and louder. “Are you sure this hasn’t happened before? After I leave tomorrow you’ll have someone else lock your door at night, won’t you? You can’t forget to do that.”

“I will, I will,” she said, her mind back on that red string and its destination.

“Katara,” Zuko said, a warning in his tone as they approached her door. “Are you taking this seriously?”

“I _will_ ,” she insisted. They paused outside her door. “I’ll be fine. I’m just really sorry for waking you up.”

“Don’t worry,” he said.

Katara’s next inhale didn’t quite work properly when she caught how the glow of the fire reflected in his amber eyes. “Goodnight,” she squeaked, and ducked into her hut without looking back.

* * *

The next morning Zuko pulled her aside just before he was to leave, regarding her seriously.

At this point when she looked at him it was always like there was a strange little buzz in her chest. This was no different.

Especially after the night before—crawling into his bed. She would be humiliated about that for weeks to come.

“Will you come visit?” he asked. He looked so hopeful.

“Yes,” she said. “I promise.”

“My birthday is coming up next month,” he said. “Since I’m feeling better Uncle wants to have a party. Honestly I think he’s been waiting for a while for an excuse to have a big party.” Zuko grinned. “But anyway, you’ll get an official invitation of course. And maybe you could stay a while? Aang said you could also use some spirit water, right?”

Katara nodded with a small smile. “Yeah. I’d like that."

He hugged her—it was a warm, tight, lingering hug, and he smelled like pine and cloves and smoke—and when he pulled away he searched her eyes a moment longer than necessary. “Good,” he said softly, and then he stepped back and she could breathe normally again. “Take care of yourself." His grip tightened on her shoulders and he gave her a stern look. "Lock your door from the outside at night. Don't forget.”

"I _will_ ," she said, rolling her eyes affectionately.

He smiled. “Bye, Katara.”

“Bye, Zuko,” she said, even though something inside of her protested wildly, almost violently, at the thought of separation.

She quelled it until it was only a deep, hollow spot inside as they all walked Zuko and Toph to their ship. They stood on the deck and Sokka, Katara, Aang, and Suki stood on the dock, everyone waving as the ship began to move, sailing away until they were no longer in sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [come join me in the void, if you so desire](https://ladyaniko.tumblr.com/)


End file.
